#The Black Brain Drain Is Real

[cptsvensen]

i'm never letting go of ricky btw

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2

pt. 1 pt. 3

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)

[dolldefiler]

I loved your post regarding an bullying kink! Would you be open to making another post like that please? It was hot ♥️

[I think this is the post you were talking about? Consider this post to be a 'part 2' of that :)]

C/W: Bullying (duh), threats of piss and cuck stuff

What? You're back for more? Are you serious, you fucking nerd? Don't tell me your pathetic ass got addicted to my big, hard cock? Aww, did the stupid little fleshlight fuck itself at night, thinking about spreading its holes for me again? It? Yeah? How else would I refer to a toilet or a punching bag or a sex toy? Sweetie, you're barely a human, let alone a real woman.

Now... take my cock out and do what you do best. Don't give me a reason to give you a black eye. Or do. I want to see what my dried up cum looks like over your purpled, bruised face.

That's a good little whore. See? Isn't this what you wanted? Some attention? Someone to make you feel like a person? Do you want to know what a real woman looks like? Just think about the cheerleader team. Fuck, just thinking about them in their slutty little dresses makes my cock twitch. What about you? Don't make me laugh, cunt. The only thing you're good for is to clean up my cock after I'm done fucking them. To drain my heavy, cum-filled balls before you've finished doing my homework.

Pick up the fucking pace, you're here to make me cum, not drool over my cock like a brain-damaged piece of fuckmeat, you pathetic nerd. Have you not fucking watched porn or something? I'd imagine that's the only way a fucking loser like you could ever see some dick. Go on. Choke yourself on my cock or I'll force you to choke like last time. FUCK!

Fuck, that's hot. What if I do... this?

Aww, are you crying? Because I punched the back of your head while you were worshipping me? You want to stop now? That's so cute. Shut the fuck up and don't forget to lick at my balls like the worthless mutt you are. That's fucking disgusting. You're so fucking gross for me. Aren't you embarrassed? Just wait till everyone at school hears about this.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it's like your tears are lubing up my cock everytime you slide your bruised lips across it. God... I'm going to cum inside your cumrag mouth. God, fuck, I need to look at those cheerleaders' instagram accounts first. FUCK, FUCK, Fuckkkk, holy fuck they're so hot. They're so much hotter than you'll ever be you worthless, pathetic piece of shit. The only reason I'm like this to you is because I know you'll never have the guts to tell anyone.

Now get the fuck out of my sight before I use your asshole as a urinal. I'm going to call my girlfriend over. I don't want a disgusting cum rag ruining the atmosphere.

[xodite]

MDNI

Female yandere oc x fem reader x fem! Yan! Oc!

Light smut incoming

This fantasy post includes forced Pussy eating, soft cnc, bondage, kidnapping, chase kink, fem characters, fem genitalia, cult leader, worship kink, blood, bondage and praise.

The cult leaders pet

~ - ~

~ - ~

After finding pictures in the forest while camping of dead bodies drained of their blood with a deadly cults logo as-well as a gorgeous woman with long brown hair and hazel eyes standing on top of the bodies you dash to find help, will you escape in time?

You ran through the harsh secluded forest with the cold winds rushing through your hair as you raced away from your camp where you found those cursed images only two things ran through your mind, were you next? And what the fuck was that?

Through your jumbled thoughts and ragged breaths you looked down to see the pictures in your hands again. These images looked hauntingly like the witness described pictures of the deadly cult that lived in these woods, although those were just rumours right? Paranoia raced through your body as you breathed harder until you heard a haunting branch crack behind you. There was someone behind you. And they didn’t have the best intentions with you. Especially with those images you held in your hands.

You continued to race through the forest as you heard ragged breaths and angry desperate cries. The cries rang around your thumping panicked mind. They were loud and horrid. The cries pinged your mind and plagued the deepest crevice of your mind.

In a panic you spotted a thick couple of bushes and hid in there, accidentally dropping the evidence aka the photos. As you watched them fall you heard two people arguing angrily then complete silence. Utter silence. Before a soft woman’s voice rang out from the bush after her perfect manicured fingers picked up the now muddied photos.

“Sweet thing! come on out~! Poor thing your probably so petrified~ trust me our goddesses will be so welcoming! There’s nothing to fear!”

The voice chirped condescendingly as you heard them rustle in the bushes around you, increasingly getting more and more aggressive. They wanted to find you and they wanted to find you now. Then it all came crashing down upon your poor brain as you realized, they wanted you. They wanted to offer you like they did to those to their leaders. The cult was real.

As the wandering hands came closer you felt your muscles tense and you dashed out of the bushes, desperate to escape. At the sudden movement you caught the eye of the near by follower and they attempted to grab onto you, pushing you both into mud as your knees bled from the sharp stick and rock slivers in the wet mud. You desperately crawled away while screaming for help as loud as you could. Suddenly you no longer felt the crushing grip on your leg and looked behind you. The followers were bowing?

Your eyes looked infront of you to see two taller beautiful woman. Cold horror rushed through your veins as you realized one of the woman were in the photos. They were both dressed in riches and soft silk fabrics as they looked down upon you. One had beautiful black silk dressings while the other had white dressings. You easily recognized the one in the black dress as the woman who stood upon the dead bodies.

Cold Horror struck through your bones as your ragged breaths rang audibly through the tense atmosphere. You had no where to run.

Before you could react you felt a sharp pinch in the back of your neck as everything went dark, one of the followers must’ve used a sedative dart. The only thing you felt after that was cold silence as you heard your body thump in the mud and felt yourself fall out of consciousness and the harsh ear ringing sound that permanently altered your hearing.

- smut warning -

You awoke chained to the hard cold ground on your knees infront of the two woman who sat on simple yet elegant wooden chairs. Once you got a clearer look at them you realized they were both hauntingly gorgeous yet something about them ran shivers down your spine. Wordlessly the one with lighter silks stood and laid a gentle hand against your face and slowly guided your disoriented mouth to her smooth delicate pussy. You shook your head no softly yet she tugged harder on your hair, causing tears to run down your face.

“Behave.”

The powerful woman above you demanded as she continued to push your face into her pussy to your dismay. At the rough action you felt the other cult leaders arms wrap around your waist and heard her smooth voice speak to the woman above you,

“Iradita my love, be gentle.”

The woman spoke while slowly slipping her two fingers onto your underwear, slowly massaging your clit. You moaned softly as her skilled fingers continued to attack the little bundle of nerves, ignoring your little whimpers of disapproval.

“Irademia. I shall do as I please, and this sweet girl is going to eat my pussy.”

Iradita hissed while shoving your face into her pussy demandingly. Horror washed through your body as you remembered the news about the horrors they put their victims through, it was better to stay on their good sides. You slowly stuck your tongue on her clit and licked gently. The woman above you groaned and moved her pussy around on your tongue, obviously enjoying it. Her grip on your hair loosened as she whispered,

“Oh sweet girl I’m going to enjoy you, keep going for I am your goddess”

Terrified of Iradita’s anger you kept going, on the edge of cumming from Irademia fingering, you started to suck desperately on Iraditas clit for some form of comfort from the sensitivity in your clit from the merciless massaging. Finally you came on Irademia’s fingers, coming undone and collapsing in her arms. At your movement Irademia caught you and allowed you to rest on her as she continued playing with you.

Iradita groaned and placed one leg over your shoulder, placing her pussy on your face, forcing you to keep eating her out. This was going to be a long night, and you were theirs now, their pet. Their offering.

[hrhmimieucliffe]

⚠️🔞NSFW Ramblings🔞⚠️

When I tell you that this card literally made me feral, like I was not expecting this, my mouth literally just fell open. I love Zayne so bad. I love being a Zayne girlie. The way he's just sitting there, I mean phew, I would literally pounce on him and ride him crazy, going at it like we're rabbits.

Either that, or I'd just get on my knees and start going in. Like, I'm talking grapefruit technique levels of vacuuming his cock like a rabid animal. I don't know whether I'd want to be on top of him or beneath him, he's just so... mm.. Good lawhd. I would drain him of his essence. On a pool table too? I'll play with his balls real good. We can play pool with our bodies. BALLS IN THE HOLE?! YES PLEASE‼️‼️‼️

I can just imagine being on top of him on that pool table, making him moan like crazy with how slow you ride him, every roll of your hips, making him grip your hips and guide your movements with his big strong hands, trying not to be loud so that no one else hears your little teaching session.

If Zayne has a million fans, then I am one of them. If Zayne has ten fans, then I am one of them. If Zayne has only one fan, then that is me. If Zayne has no fans, then that means I am no longer on earth. If the world is against Zayne, then I am against the world.

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carrier, against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the back of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce, in the pool, in the garden, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, era ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffing, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan introducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, vulcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell devolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening sex ‼️‼️

"Call me strawberry because I want all his seed all over me." - Me in like 2018 or something.

[remusluvr]

words i used | sirius black

summary: Sirius learns the consequences of treating people he loves bad. content: angst, fighting, crying, one use of y/n note: part 2 - do i wanna know? (sirius black)

You knew from the beginning that this relationship was not one made to last. Sirius wasn't the relationship type. Yet, you let yourself get excited anyway. You let yourself get excited over when he'd hold your hand in the hallway, and sit next to you during meals, and go out of his way to hang out with you when there were other things he could be doing.

But with excitement comes disappointment. Disappointment when you see him flirting with another girl in the hallway or when you'd catch him hanging out with his friends while you were supposed to be together. There was always a counteract that threw you off. Did you mean anything to him?

The final straw was seeing him pressing some sixth-year against the wall during a party, lips attached to hers. It's like any and all hope was drained from your body, leaving you feeling unusually empty. Even walking out of the common room was a feat.

And the trek to find somewhere private was even harder of a journey. Slinking down against some wall in some abandoned hallway, you can't fight off the burning feeling in your throat anymore. You bring your knees to your chest and cry. He was never yours but you really hoped that maybe one day he could be.

It hurts too much to put any more effort into the dead-end of your relationship. By the time you finally will yourself to pull things together, your eyes are puffy and red. You don't want anyone to know. It's embarrassing. Especially when everyone had warned you not to get your hopes up but you brushed them off, blinded by the boy.

Sometimes, you'd have sleepovers where he would hold you close and run his fingers through your hair whilst you talked quietly. He would tell you how much he liked you and wanted to be with you. But it was never real. Just another check on his never-ending journey to make out with every girl in school.

It feels like a completely different world when you wake up the next morning. You wouldn't say that the world is brighter or duller, just different. It's like you have been forced to finally open your eyes and see things for how they are.

Breakfast is the first noticeable change. He comes in late, taking his unassigned-assigned seat next to you.

"Good morning," he smiles, plucking a piece of toast from the pile. You hum from your position next to him, not turning to look at him. You chew on your lip and he swats at it like usual, telling you to knock it off but you can't. You can't be around him.

If the bench below you was able to move, it would be halfway across the room with the way you stood up so abruptly.

"What's wrong?"

"I just, god-" you cut yourself off. He doesn't deserve an explanation so you storm out, leaving him even more confused. Sirius wants to follow and beg you to tell him why you're upset with him but he's never seen you this way before. He's not sure what you need him to do, if you need him at all.

He's sure that something is very wrong when you don't show up to class, one that you sit together in. Racking his brain, he's trying to figure out exactly what caused you to turn so cold to him out of nowhere. There's not much work being done in McGonagall's today as the only thing on his parchment is a list of things that could've upset you.

You're hidden away in a secret alcove that Sirius had shown you. Maybe it's not the best place to go when you're trying to get over him but it's the only place you know that the teachers won't be able to find you. This used to be one of your favorite places to go. Sometimes you and Sirius would sneak off here to make out at random times throughout the school day.

The memory of his hands tangling themselves into your hair as he pulls you closer onto his lap floods your mind. It's cruel. He was never officially yours but for a little while you could have your fantasy that he was.

Sirius isn't stupid, maybe it takes him a little longer to come to conclusions on things but he's not an idiot. Well, not a total idiot. His list of things he's written just keeps going and even if he can't pinpoint the exact reason for why you're mad at him, he has several that showcase how bad of a friend he is. He makes it his mission to fix whatever is wrong.

"(Y/N)-" he starts when he sees you passing by in the hallway. You glance over with a thin, tight-lipped smile on your face as he gets cut off.

"Sirius! I had fun last night, I was thinking that maybe we could go to Hogsmeade together this weekend?" a random girl interrupts, driving the knife further into your heart. His face and your face fall as he turns to the girl.

"Oh, uh no," he states rather bluntly, following after your figure with his eyes before trying to catch up with you. He has to shove through the crowded hallway so that he doesn't lose you.

And when he finally does catch up to you, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you off to the side. Your breathing is heavier than usual and he realizes you were really trying to get away from him.

"What?" you grit, anger evident in your voice. You're blinking more than usual to try and keep the tears from falling and he's not sure what to say. "Don't you have better things to do with your time? Things that don't involve leading me on and then making out with someone else?"

"I'm sorry," is the only thing he comes up with. You laugh at him because that's all he can say. He looks like a hurt puppy as you rub your hands over your eyes. He doesn't get to be the hurt one in this situation.

"I tried, Sirius. I don't understand what else I can do to make you like me. Do any of those girls mean anything to you? Was I just one of them?" you spit. His gaze is fixed on the ground and you know you'll never get anywhere. He doesn't care. "I can't be around you anymore. I can't look at you."

"Please," he mumbles, "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I act like this. I like you so much. I shouldn't have made out with her or anyone else when I knew all I want is you. It's like I only know how to ruin things for myself."

"D-don't turn yourself into the victim here. That's not fair. You hurt me and you're trying to make me feel bad for you. It's not hard to not make me look like a fool. All you had to do was not go after other girls. Did you think I never noticed until now? Maybe I didn't see all of them but I saw too many for it to be a one-off thing."

"I'm sorry, really. I want to be with you but that scares me. Will you please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me? I want you to be my girlfriend."

It's the words you want to hear but the circumstance is wrong. Why couldn't he have realized this before? Why did he have to make you feel so shitty?

"I can't, Sirius. None of your words mean anything to me when you go and do the opposite almost immediately. I know you'll make someone really happy one day, but it won't be me. I can't put myself through this again."

"No, please. Let me prove it to you," his words fall on deaf ears as you walk away. Staying any longer would just increase his chances of you saying 'yes.' And he doesn't get to recover that easily. Your hands are shaking and your body aches. "Please."

part 2 - do i wanna know? (sirius black)

[simplyraeblue]

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ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP !femreader x !virginshoto you've had a crush on your friend shoto for a long time, and unbeknownst to you he's been crushing as well. not only that, he wants you to be his first time; for everything WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing, fluff, suggestive, shoto is kind of a simp word count: 2,707 A/N: oopsy daisy real quick short post because I couldn't help myself and the idea of sweet shoto wouldn't leave my brain... little cutesy filler part before they hit home base (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ also I was listening to The Archer x Not Strong Enough while writing this... linked here if you want to listen while you read!

part one | part two | part three |

part four | part five

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you were desperate to ignore the incessant barrage of notifications from Mina. just moments ago, you had dragged yourself off your feet, finally collapsing onto the couch after a grueling day. the minute you sank into the cushions, your phone erupted with a flood of calls and text messages. exhaustion weighed on you heavily, and each buzz and ping felt like an assault on your already depleted energy. it wasn’t until the hundredth call that you finally gave in and answered.

“what do you want, Mina? I’m absolutely wiped out,” you groaned, trying to inject a note of humor into your voice despite how drained you felt.

Mina’s voice came through the receiver with an overly enthusiastic tone, almost too cheerful for your weary brain to handle. “get dressed up; we’re going to a fancy restaurant!”

you sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes in frustration. “did you not just hear me say I’m exhausted? I have zero energy left, and honestly, I’d rather not spend any more money right now.”

Mina’s response was an impatient tsk, filled with exasperation. “I don’t care how tired you are or what you want. put on something fancy and forget about the cost. be ready by seven-thirty, or I’m coming over there to drag you out myself.”

you wanted to argue more, but the stubborn resolve in Mina's voice told you this was a battle you wouldn’t win. plus, deep down, you knew she was right. maybe a change of scenery and some good company was exactly what you needed to recharge. with a resigned sigh, you checked the time on your phone—it was already past six.

“fine, fine. I’ll be ready,” you grumbled, hoping your tone conveyed the minimal enthusiasm you felt.

“great!” Mina replied with an exaggerated cheerfulness. “see you soon!”

you hung up and stared at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone. despite your fatigue, you found a sliver of motivation. you stood up, stretched, and began to rummage through your closet. picking out a sleek dress and a pair of heels that hadn’t seen the light of day in months, you couldn’t help but feel a small spark of excitement. maybe this would be a good distraction after all.

as you prepared yourself, you tried to push aside the lingering thoughts of your long day. you opted for minimal makeup and a quick hairstyle, focusing on just enough to look presentable without draining what little energy you had left. by the time you checked the clock again, it was nearly seven-thirty.

just as you were about to head out the door, you heard an unexpected knock. you’d assumed Mina would just text you the address and meet you there. curious and a bit puzzled, you opened the door and started to say, “Mina, I promise I’m ready—”

but it wasn’t Mina standing there. instead, Shoto was at your doorstep, impeccably dressed in a sharp black suit. he held a bouquet of flowers, the rich colors and delicate petals contrasting with his formal attire.

“apologies for letting mina trick you,” Shoto said, his voice gentle and warm as he offered you a reassuring smile. “I wanted this to be a surprise.”

“Shoto, what’s going on?” you asked, your confusion mingling with a touch of excitement as you accepted the flowers, your cheeks flushing at the unexpected and thoughtful gesture.

“I’m taking you on a proper date,” Shoto replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. he extended his arm toward you, a subtle invitation. “I figured it was about time, especially considering the… less conventional things we’ve been up to.”

you stared at Shoto for a moment, your mind racing to process what was happening. the bouquet in your hands felt surprisingly heavy, its fragrance filling the air with a sweetness that contrasted with the formal setting.

“a proper date?” you echoed, trying to reconcile this unexpected turn of events with the casual plans you had made with mina.

“yes,” Shoto affirmed, his tone steady and sincere. “I wanted to do something special, something more meaningful. and mina kindly agreed to help with the surprise.”

you took a deep breath, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling up inside you. “this is… really unexpected. but also, kind of amazing.”

Shoto’s smile widened, and he gently took your hand, guiding you out the door. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve been looking forward to this. let’s make it a night to remember.”

as you walked down the stairs and into the cool evening air, you glanced back at your apartment, feeling a mix of disbelief and anticipation. Shoto’s presence was reassuring, his calm demeanor helping to ease your lingering fatigue. he led you to a sleek, black car parked by the curb, its polished surface reflecting the city lights.

“where are we going?” you asked as he opened the car door for you, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“it’s a surprise,” he said with a playful glint in his eye. “but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

you settled into the plush leather seat, watching as Shoto got in beside you and started the engine. the car glided smoothly through the city streets, and you found yourself enjoying the rare luxury of simply being present in the moment.

Shoto made small talk as he drove, his voice soothing and easy to listen to. he talked about the restaurant he had chosen, the dishes they were famous for, and the ambiance he hoped you would appreciate. the conversation flowed effortlessly, and you could feel the genuine interest and care behind his words.

when you finally arrived at the restaurant, it was even more beautiful than you had imagined. the elegant exterior was bathed in soft, warm light, and the interior exuded an atmosphere of refined sophistication. Shoto guided you inside, where you were greeted by a host and shown to a private table with a stunning view of the city skyline.

“Shoto, this is insane,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed out the window. the city below sparkled like a sea of stars, the lights stretching out as far as the eye could see. the extent of it all hit you suddenly, making you acutely aware of just how much effort and expense this must have entailed. “you didn’t have to go all out like this. I would’ve been perfectly happy with something more… quaint.”

Shoto extended his hand across the table, his touch gentle yet reassuring as he clasped yours. his smile was soft and genuine, a look of quiet pride in his eyes. “I wanted to do this. for you.”

throughout the evening, Shoto’s attentiveness and thoughtfulness made you feel cherished and valued. the meal was exquisite, each course a culinary delight, and the conversation never faltered. as the night progressed, you realized that Shoto’s surprise was not just about the setting or the food but about the effort he had put into making this night special for you.

by the end of the evening, as you sat back and savored the last of your dessert, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Shoto reached across the table, taking your hand in his once more.

“there’s actually another reason I planned this night with you, y/n,” Shoto said, his voice a bit hesitant. he lifted your hand gently, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. as he pulled away, you noticed a faint pink hue spreading across his cheeks, a blush that made him even more endearing.

“okay, now you’re gonna make me worry,” you joked lightly, trying to ease the tension with a playful laugh. but his nervous gulp made your own anxiety spike, and a flutter of unease began to settle in your stomach.

“I… shit, I don’t know how to put this,” Shoto murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find the right words. he turned his eyes to the sprawling cityscape outside, and you felt a pang of anxiety, your heart racing in your chest. “I care about you, quite a lot.”

“I care a lot about you too, Sho,” you responded softly, hoping to reassure him. his eyes met yours again, filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

“I’m sure this might feel very sudden, and maybe a tad rushed,” Shoto continued, his voice trembling slightly. he squeezed your hand with a tenderness that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “but, after all these years of having a crush on you, and the past few weeks of growing closer, I think… no, I know I’m falling in love with you, y/n.”

the room seemed to hold its breath as Shoto’s words hung in the air. you could feel the weight of his confession pressing gently against your heart, and the enormity of the moment made your mind swirl with a mix of emotions.

for a moment, you were silent, processing the depth of what he had just shared. Shoto’s fingers still rested lightly around yours, his gaze searching yours with a blend of hope and trepidation.

“I… wow,” you finally said, your voice soft and trembling with emotion. “I had no idea you felt this way.”

Shoto’s cheeks reddened further, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t want to rush things or make you feel pressured. I just needed you to know how I really feel.”

you took a deep breath, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for him. the realization that he had been holding these feelings for so long, and that he had chosen this special evening to reveal them, made your heart swell.

“I’ve been feeling the same way,” you confessed, your voice gaining strength. “I didn’t know how to say it either, but I’ve been falling for you too, Shoto.”

a look of pure relief and joy spread across his face, and he squeezed your hand once more, his eyes sparkling. “really? you mean that?”

“yes,” you nodded, smiling through the tears that had formed in your eyes. “I mean it. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, but I didn’t want to rush things either.”

Shoto’s expression softened into a tender smile, and he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page,” he murmured. “I want to take things at a pace that feels right for both of us. I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”

you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness and the sincerity of the moment. “I want that too,” you whispered, your heart full of hope and happiness. “let’s see where this takes us.”

as you both leaned across the table, your lips yearning to mold against his, Shoto suddenly smirked and broke the moment. “hopefully to home base,” he joked, the playful glint in his eyes causing you to snort with laughter. his smirk widened as he heard your reaction, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a hearty laugh that was both infectious and endearing.

as Shoto continued laughing, you felt a wave of boldness and excitement. standing up from your chair, you made your way around the table, feeling a sense of exhilaration that made you disregard the curious glances from other diners. with a determined stride, you leaned in close to his ear, your breath warm and tickling his skin. “let’s take this special evening home, shall we?” you whispered, and you could almost sense the shiver of anticipation that ran through his body.

Shoto’s reaction was immediate—his face flushed with a deep, embarrassed pink. this wasn’t the end goal for him tonight, not by any measure. he wanted you to understand that his confession was heartfelt and sincere, and he hoped you knew that it wasn’t just a pretext to move things forward physically.

“I—seriously?” Shoto asked, his voice dropping to a low, almost incredulous murmur. you could see the nervousness flickering in his eyes, and it only made you more determined. reaching out, you offered him your hand with a reassuring smile, trying to convey your genuine affection and support.

“unless you don’t want to make a home run?” you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully. Shoto’s reaction was immediate and comical—he stood up from his chair with such urgency that he almost knocked it over. “wow there, eager are we?” you laughed, watching as he fumbled slightly, trying to regain his composure.

“if you keep teasing me, we’re not making it back to your apartment,” Shoto groaned, his voice tinged with frustration and amusement. he pulled you gently towards him, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. as he lingered there for a moment, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, making your heart race. “I’d hate to have to take you in my car,” he added with a playful edge, clearly struggling to keep his own excitement in check.

his warning tease almost came true, because when you two made it to the car he nudged you against the side of the vehicle, letting his hands roam a little too much for the public as he kissed you fervently.

you would’ve let him take you in the car, white hot desire burning inside of you so quickly that you felt like you’d die if you didn’t have him on top of you.

even when you made it back to your apartment, you both barely made it in the door as he started pawing at your dress. Shoto had to restrain himself from ripping the tight fabric that fit so well around your ass, thinking he needed to try and remain as gentlemanly as possible.

you became a tangle of limbs as his lips met yours, hungry and needy, the two of you stumbling your bedroom. you guided him to sit on the edge of the bed before you started to work on the buttons of his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and discarding it on the floor.

Shoto could only watch in awe as you stepped back, slowly working on the zipper of your dress (thank god you chose one with a side zipper), before letting it drop to the ground.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” Shoto whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. his gaze remained locked on yours, though he clearly wanted to let his eyes wander over your now exposed skin. he had seen you like this before, sure, but it never failed to take his breath away, each time more intense than the last.

you settled yourself on his lap, your body fitting comfortably against his. a soft, tender smile played on your lips as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on his mouth. “you make me breathless, Sho,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “absolutely, and utterly, starstruck.”

Shoto’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the kiss before pulling away slightly. his gaze was dreamy, half-lidded with a wide, affectionate grin spreading across his face. “will you be mine?” he asked, his voice filled with earnest desire. “call me your boyfriend, and I’ll call you my girlfriend. we’ll make our friends sick with pda, go on dates all the time, and I promise I’ll treat you like a princess. we can cook together, sleep together, do everything you want to do. I’ll follow you, I’d follow you anywhere.”

your heart swelled with emotion at his heartfelt words. overwhelmed by the depth of his promise, you kissed him deeply, pouring all your passion into the embrace. the kiss was intense, a shared declaration of the love and commitment you both felt. “that sounds perfect to me, boyfriend,” you whispered, the term feeling both exhilarating and right as it fell from your lips.

the moment you said the words, shoto’s arms wrapped around you tightly and flipped the two of you so that you laid bare underneath him.

“can I make love to you, girlfriend?” Shoto’s face was pink with lust and emotions, and his gaze was filled with a deep desire that made you feel like the only girl in the world.

“yes, Shoto.”

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Link to Bakugo x reader here

(word count: 2,328)

Link to Kirishima x reader here

(word count: 902)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ taglist: @ellielover69 thank you so much for all your support! if you'd like to be added to the taglist send a request in my inbox! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[irkimatsu]

Hmm, anything for sexually deprived Husk who snaps at you but feels bad so opens up? You offer a hand, but only that unless he wants more? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🎉

Anon, I am so sorry if you didn't want breeding kink, because what came out of my cursed hands is breeding kink.

Husk goes into a rut, Reader offers to help him out, Husk quickly comes unglued. About 2.5k words. Seriously NSFW. Breeding kink, mating press, all that good nasty furry shit.

---

Husk has seemed especially agitated these past few days.

It’s not like he’s ever been the friendliest resident of the hotel, not by a long shot, but normally that manifests in him offering terse responses and no-nonsense advice. In fact, he seemed to have developed a bit of a liking for you. He enjoyed bantering with you over drinks, and even smiled in your presence a few times, a real rarity for him. Recently, however, he seems to be outright avoiding you. He won’t sit near you during hotel bonding activities, and when you go up to the bar, he silently pours your usual drink and seems to be waiting for you to finish it and leave. He hasn’t even looked you in the eye in a while.

Did you do something wrong?

It’s the third night of Husk’s attitude, and if anything, he seems worse off than ever. He’s making a horrendous racket as he digs through shelves, slamming bottles and glasses onto the counter.

“Where the fuck did I put it?!” he growls to himself, before finally finding a black, gold-trimmed bottle at the back of a shelf. “Fuckin’ finally…” He twists the cap off of the bottle, then tilts his head back while he gulps down as much of the bottle as he can in one go. He finally stops his gulp with a heavy exhale, then shakes his head. “That’s the stuff…”

“Husk…?” you ask as you take a seat at the bar.

“What,” he growls as he slams his liquor bottle onto the bar in front of you. His fur is bristling, and his ears are pinned back.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, immediately regretting opening your mouth. “I was just wondering if you were okay…”

“Do I look okay?” he asks before taking another long swig from his bottle.

“...I guess not.” You watch him drink, wondering what could have possibly happened to make him this moody for this long. “Did Alastor do something?”

“For once, no,” he says after pulling the bottle away from his lips. He’s still not looking at you. Whatever he’s looking at doesn’t seem interesting; he seems to have chosen that direction simply because it’s not yours.

“...did I do something?”

His silence isn’t encouraging.

“If I did, I can’t make up for it if you won’t tell me what it was. It’s been three days, Husk.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose between two of his claws. “It’s nothing you did… it’s something stupid. Just forget about it.”

“You’ve heard me talk about stupid stuff all the time,” you say. “Aren’t we friends? Can’t you at least tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

He needs to drain his liquor bottle before he can make up his mind. “...yeah. Okay. I’ll talk. But only to you. If anyone else walks in, this conversation is over.”

“Of course.”

He grabs another identical bottle from the cabinet and takes a seat next to you. “When I died, it didn’t surprise me when I woke up in Hell. What I didn’t expect was waking up as a cat.”

You’re not sure where he’s going with this as he pauses to open his new liquor bottle, but you’ll hear him out.

“I still had all my human memories, my human personality… but there was still something different in my brain. Different instincts. Stuff I couldn’t suppress no matter how irrational I knew it was, like wanting to climb and scratch things, or suddenly being afraid of water.”

“Or like chasing laser pointers?” you say with a smirk.

“That was one time,” he answers, not at all amused. Your punishment is for him to take a particularly long swig before he’ll continue talking. “And one of those instincts is… well… mating.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Every once in a while, I need it bad. I know it’s stupid! Why is that instinct even there?! Sinners can’t have kids, and even if I could, why would I want to bring new life into this shithole?! But the thoughts still take over. I need to mate. I need to have kits. It only lasts for a few days, but it’s frustrating. I can barely think about anything else.”

“I’m guessing you… can’t take care of it yourself?” You know it’s an obvious question. He’s been here for decades; if he could take care of it himself, he would have figured it out by now.

“I actually can, normally,” he says, to your surprise. “I can feel it coming, take a day or two off, maybe get some toys, stay in my room and ride it out. But sometimes…” He trails off and looks away from you again.

“Sometimes…?”

“Normally that instinct isn’t directed anywhere. I just wanna mate, I don’t really care with who. Led to some… interesting nights as an Overlord. But sometimes… someone catches my eye. I don’t know what it is. Does that person have to be someone special? Do I just have to be in their proximity the instant it hits? But whatever it is… that person ends up being all I can think about.”

Your face grows hot over what he’s implying.

“And when that happens, it’s fucking miserable. Nothing short of being with that person will make me feel any better. Trying to take care of it myself just makes it worse. Just reminds me that they aren’t there with me…”

“What if that person didn’t mind helping you out…?” you ask, testing the waters.

He raises one of his large eyebrows. “You… do realize who I’m losing my shit over this time, right?”

“I figured as soon as you mentioned someone catching your eye,” you admit. “It’s not like you’d wouldn’t tell me about it if it was someone else. And if there’s anything I can do to help…”

“What are you gonna do? Jerk me off until I can finally get some fuckin’ sleep?” He laughs coldly at his own joke before finishing his second bottle, and as he sips, he realizes you aren’t protesting. “...you’re fuckin’ serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I like you, Husk.”

“I couldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

“You’re not taking advantage. I’m curious about you, myself. Just for a bit, to see how it feels for us both?”

It takes him a moment to think, and you can’t imagine his screaming instincts making it easy to turn down your offer. “All right. Fine. But if I do anything you don’t want me doing, I give you full permission to beat the shit out of this stupid cat body.”

—

Husk isn’t wasting any time as soon as you get up to his room. Within seconds, he’s stripped of his pants and underwear. You can’t help but stare as his already-erect cock is revealed; it’s quite thick, and covered in curious looking bumps. Husk is panting, already struggling to catch his breath.

“Okay. Just a handjob,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Just once, maybe twice if we both wanna keep going. You don’t owe me more than that. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Husk, it’s fine. I want to do this with you, I promise,” you assure him as you take a seat next to him. Normally you’d warm up a partner with some kisses and cuddles, but given the way his face is flushed, you don’t think he has the patience for that. Instead, you go right for the prize, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.

Husk instantly hisses through his teeth as he jerks his hips up. “Fuck, that’s it…” His tip is already leaking precum down his shaft and onto your fist. You lightly pump his cock, adjusting easily enough to the small, rough barbs that line it. His rapidly building precum makes it even easier to glide your hand against them. Within seconds, his eyes are starting to glaze over. 

“Can I hold you?” you ask.

“I mean… if you want…” he says as he jerks up again. “Fuck… that’s better already…”

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders and pull him against you. His body is so heated with need right now… you can only hope you’re helping to alleviate that need, even if only slightly. You nuzzle your head against the soft fur on his neck, and he purrs in satisfaction.

“Mmm… babe…”

He’s never called you that before, but you like it.

He wraps his arms around you in turn, burying his face into the top of your head. “Damn, you smell good…”

You grip him harder, and he gasps and squeezes you tighter.

“Oh god…” He starts peppering the top of your head with rapid kisses, seemingly unaware of himself. “You’re doing so good, baby…”

You could easily get used to this rhythm, working him up to a climax while held tight in his arms…

“I want more.” He grips at the back of your shirt as he pants. “Want more… want you… wanna mate…” He kisses you again as he tugs at your clothes. “Wanna mate… wanna mate…”

You turn your face up so that his kisses catch your mouth instead. This doesn’t stop him from kissing you. He groans against your lips as he presses further against you, his body trembling. “Want you, baby… want you…” he whispers against your lips.

“Take me,” you whisper back.

He pulls your hand away from his cock so he can seat you in his lap, leaving you free to return his embrace as he kisses you. You lean in deeply to the kiss, letting his rough tongue caress your own, as he keeps tugging on your clothes. You only break the kiss for as long as it takes for you to get your top off in one piece. He slides your pants down off your ass, and groans as he palms your cheeks.

“So fuckin’ hot…”

The instant you’re naked, he turns to pin you to the bed, landing your head directly on the pillows. He moves quickly, squatting above you and holding up your legs so your thighs are pressed against his. The whole time, he can’t stop muttering to himself.

“Want you, baby, want you…”

You cry out as in one swift thrust downward, his cock fills you to the hilt, his hips flush with yours.

“Want you… want you…” His irises are blown wide as he stares down at you. “Want you…”

You smile reassuringly up at him as you fold your hands behind his neck. “I want you, too.”

You don’t know if it’s your words or your touch that set him off, but either way, he’s launched immediately into a frenzied pace, thrusting down into you as if his life depends on it. It’s a rough way to start, but you adjust easily enough to his pace and to the barbs scraping your walls. His claws are tearing at his pillows, and he’s growling and panting, as if there’s no human thought left in his head.

He’s fucking hot like this.

“You’re… gonna look so good…” he growls as he keeps thrusting. “...when you’re filled…with my kits…”

“Fill me, Husk…!” you gasp out. His tail lashes as he fucks into you even harder.

“Have my kits… have my kits…!” His speech is becoming more choppy, his thrusts more erratic. “Have- want- fuck-”

As his cock throbs inside you, you pull him down for another kiss. This seems to be what pushes him over the edge, as he slams deep inside you and immediately lets loose. His cum fills you deep, your current position preventing anything from leaking out.

“Fuck…” he groans, just barely pulled backed from you kiss. “C’mon… take it…” He keeps thrusting, pushing his cum as deep inside you as he can. “Take all of it… you gotta have kits for me…”

“I will,” you promise before kissing him again. He relaxes against you, comparatively; his body is still hot to the touch, his cock still hard inside you, but at least he’s breathing a little easier.

As he pulls back from the kiss, he looks down at you through dazed, half-lidded pupils, his tail’s swaying now a lot slower. “Beautiful…” he murmurs with a laugh before kissing you again. “You’re gonna have kits with me… I’m so glad…”

You don’t have the heart to ruin his fantasy right now. You’re sure his mind will clear it out any second, anyway.

“Babe…” he whispers as he strokes your face. He smiles, and his cock twitches inside you. “Can I do that again? I wanna make sure…”

—

Your hips are so sore as you wake up in Husk’s bed. Just how many times did you let him fill you? You lost track after the third. It’s hard to keep your head on straight with a beast pumping you full of cum over and over again.

You know he would have stopped if you asked him to… and that’s why you never asked.

You look over to see Husk sprawled out on his stomach on his side of the bed, snoring loudly. You can’t help but smile; he’s so handsome when he’s asleep. If you had to pick a resident of the hotel to wake up next to like this, he would have always been your choice, no questions asked.

You spend some time stroking the soft fur on his head, paying special attention to his ears and cheeks. It takes him a while to finally stir.

“Why do I feel like I got hit by a truck?” he grumbles as he tries to push himself up, before quickly giving up and letting himself drop back down to the bed. “What happened last night?”

“Good morning, Husk,” you greet him, voice a lot more cheerful than you really feel. You wouldn’t mind sleeping for a few more hours, and it doesn’t seem like Husk would object to that idea.

“What the-” He turns and stares blankly at you for a few seconds, as if not quite comprehending what he’s seeing. “...was that real?”

“You mean, you fucking me and begging me to have kits for you?” you say as you stroke his ear again. “It was real. Thank you, Husk.”

Husk groans as he grabs another pillow and sandwiches his head between two of them, apparently trying to smother himself. “What the fuck was I saying last night?! Of course I don’t want kits! We just barely met! What the fuck!”

“Husk, it’s okay,” you assure him as you take the top pillow from him. “It was just a fantasy, right? And I enjoyed it.”

“We just barely met,” he repeats. “And I said all that shit to you already.”

“Did it make you feel better?” you ask.

Husk hums in thought. “Well, my brain isn’t screaming at me to start fucking you anymore…”

“Then it worked,” you said.

“But now you know what I’m like when my brain goes stupid on me,” he continues. “So I bet that won’t happen again.”

“Of course it will,” you assure him. “I told you, I enjoyed it. And next time you start feeling like that… I’d rather you asked me than someone else.”

He stares at you in what seems to be disbelief. “So… you know I’m a creep, but… we’re still friends?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Maybe a little more than friends, after something like that.”

Thankfully, that got him to smile. “Okay… just don’t tell anyone what just happened.”

Given how loud you two were, it’s probably a little too late.

“And maybe sometime… we can do that when I’m not a horny idiot. I have a softer side, too, I swear…”

You stroke his cheek and kiss him. “Can’t wait to see it. “

[rainylana]

“I’m not ever gonna stop.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: reader and eddie are new parents. reader struggles to keep everything together for eddie.

warnings: dad eddie and mom reader, postpartum depression, new baby and all the things that go with it, language, stressed reader very emotional, breastfeeding.

“Oh, God.” You moaned in exhaustion, back against the closed door to your baby’s nursery after finally getting her to sleep after hours of crying. You opened your eyes, the trailer an absolute wreck. You knew you should listen to your doctor. When the baby sleeps, you sleep, but you had so much to do. Laundry, dishes, dinner. It had been days since you showered, absolutely covered in spit up, formula and piss.

Baby Johanna was only five weeks old, and as amazing and life changing those weeks had been, they’d also been the hardest and most challenged. You were physically and emotionally drained. Completely exhausted. She was the best thing to ever happen to you, without a doubt, but damn, did you miss sleeping a full night. Eddie of course, helped when he could, but he worked full time. Everyday 9 to 5.

Eddie knew you were having a hard time. He felt terrible he couldn’t do more, spend more time at home, but he carried a big responsibility by supporting the finances. You’d called Joyce almost everyday with questions. Why she wouldn’t stop crying? Why she never seemed happy? She fussed all the live long day. You felt so behind on everything. Your house, your life, your husband. You missed showering and wearing deodorant.

Your eyes fixated on your messy home, brain so exhausted and cluttered you didn’t know where to start. Wiping your sweaty face, you pushed yourself off the door to the living room, picking up trash off the floor and cold coffee cups. You cringed when you caught your reflection in the mirror hung above the table. Your hair was falling out of your bun atop of your head. You were pale as snow and had craters under your eyes, lips chapped and cry. Your t shirt was stained and torn at the arm, your black shorts on underneath. You looked horrendous, but house work was more important than a shower.

You were extremely depressed. Well, you didn’t know if you were more exhausted or depressed. Either way, you didn’t feel good. You felt yourself disassociating from your own body, having trouble concentrating and staying focused with your own mind. Half the time, you didn’t feel real. It made you feel crazy, but you couldn’t help it. You’d read about postpartum, Eddie had too, but you legitimately were struggling. Your daughter made it worth it, however. Father hood looked good on Eddie, you hoped he thought the same for you. 

Your baby looked just like him. She had dark curls already at her young age, a head full of hair. A little button nose, which Eddie says she got from you. Big brown eyes, from dad. A birthmark on her shoulder, from you. She was the most perfect thing you’d ever seen. It was hard to believe that you made her. It made you incredibly proud.

It had been just ten minutes. You’d gotten a small portion of the living room picked up when she starting screaming again. You had angrily thrown down the trash in your hands to the floor, groaning into your hands as you followed the cry. You’d held her in the rocking chair, trying your best to sooth her. You’d tried feeding her, which hurt badly. You’d never imagine your breasts would be so ginormous.

Another thirty minutes of her crying sent you into a wave of snotty tears until she finally fell asleep in your arms. You’d carefully put her in her crib, tiptoeing and praying to god above she wouldn’t wake up. You full heartedly believed she hated you, or at least was out to get you. She was never happy with you or what she did. Oh, but daddy? She loved him. He never did anything wrong in her eyes.

For the next two hours you tried to settle your baby while you attempted to clean. You never got much done, then she would start to cry again. She wouldn’t touch your boob, her diaper was clean. All she did was cry. You’d called Joyce and she assured you that nothing you were doing was wrong. Babies cried, they went through fits and phases. You just had to let her cry it out.

It was 5:30 when Eddie walked through the door, waving a bundle of red roses. “How’s my best girl!” He cheered, throwing his jacket on the couch.

“Shh, shh!” You panicked, running to cover his mouth. “I just got her back to sleep!”

He cringed under your hand. “Sorry.” He chuckled quietly. “Got ya flowers.”

You smiled softly, taking them in your hands and admiring them. “Thank you. They’re pretty. How was work?” You turned to lay them on the table, stepping over the baby mobile.

“Good. Boss says I’ve got a raise in the future if I pick up more hours.” He opened the fridge for a beer, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“More hours?” You frowned, tucking a hair behind your ear. “Don’t you think you work too much as is?” You tried speaking quietly, collecting all the dirty dishes to put in the sink.

“Yeah, I know, baby, but with little Joey now we could really use the money.” You would have smiled at the endearment he used for your daughter, but the idea of him picking up for hours made your throat grow thick. Eddie was your rock. You yearned for five o’clock at the start of each day.

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, pushing a curl with your breath. You got out the broom from the closet to sweep the floor.

Eddie took a look around his home, watching how angsty and exhausted you were. He didn’t want to seem like a dick, but he was hungry. “When’s dinner, babe?”

“Oh, fuck.” You stopped your sweeping, head looking up to the ceiling as you closed your eyes. “Damn it, Eddie, I’m sorry,” You threw down the broom, not caring whether or not it made noise. “I’ve been so busy trying to get that…I’d say our daughter but I’m halfway convinced I have birth to some- some- spawn of satan, to sleep!” You stressed, running your hands through your hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie chuckled, placing down his beer as he stepped toward you. “Come here,” He pulled you into his arms and you melted into them. “Sorry you had a bad day, baby. Wanna order pizza?”

You mumbled a quiet yeah into his shirt, stifling a yawn. You wanted him to hold you all night, but you had so much to do. You pushed yourself away, grabbing the phone off the counter to hand it to him. “You order pizza and I’ll finish sweeping.”

“Honey,” Eddie peered down at you. “No sweeping. Take a break and sit down with me, yeah?”

You shook your head, sniffling. “No- no, I’ve got too much to do before she wakes up again, I-”

“You can do that tomorrow.” He picked the broom off the floor and put it in the closet. “I’ll order pizza and you go put on your cute little pj’s, alright? Have dinner with me.” He flashed you a million dollar smile.

You frowned, however, looking over the dirty home before you have a singular nod.

•

Today had been a good day. You’d been able to get a half decent night’s sleep, and Johanna wasn’t near as fussy as she had been yesterday. You’d gotten some house work done, cleaned the living room and did the dishes. All you had left was to catch up on laundry and clean your bedroom. You’d taken a shower in the morning before Eddie had left for work, even had breakfast with him.

Right now, you were nursing your baby girl in your arms, neck propped up on a pillow as you sat on the couch, eyes fixated on the game show on the tv. “Ow.” You winced lightly, chuckling as you looked down. “You don’t go very easy on mommy, you know?” Your nipples were extremely tender these days, swollen like a bunch of watermelons. Eddie adored it. It made you waddle just like when you were pregnant.

She’d fallen asleep after nursing for another twenty minutes, allowing you to sit there peacefully after you’d pulled your tank top back over you. Your eyes dropped tiredly, your head just lightly pounding from exhaustion. You looked down at your daughter, her face snuggled against your boob. You took your finger and gently caressed her cheek. She looked so much like Eddie. Her purple onesie was snug, her little belly poking out and her dark curls were messy at the top from all the wiggling around she did. When she was quiet like this, you could think. It really was worth it, all the work and lack of sleep. She made it worth it. Her and Eddie.

Carefully, you laid down on the couch and adjusted her on your chest. She moved just a little bit, her tiny fist gathering your dirty tank top in her hand. You smiled, pulling a blanket over top of you. You weren’t going to sleep. You were extremely paranoid about co-sleeping. Eddie assured you that you were being over dramatic, but you’d read horror stories about it.

You have her a kiss atop of her head and enjoyed the rest of your show.

•

“There’s my girl.” Eddie said in a childlike voice, front door still open from his arrival. You smiled widely as little Jo squealed in her baby mobile on the floor. Eddie threw his stuff down and went to her, lifting her out of her seat and kissing her cheek. “Baby, baby, baby, how’s my baby?” He repeated, lifting her up into the air to blow raspberries on her bellow. “How’s my little Joey Jo?” He tucked her into his side, face red from how hard he smiled, finally turning to you.

“How’s my other girl?” You laughed as he came over to give you a peck on the lips.

“I don’t remember the last time I was thrown into the air like that.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raised a brow, pulling on Jo’s onesie. “You’re in for a fun night, then, little lady.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into his chest to cuddle him and your baby. “How was work?”

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head. “Next week I’m up to another hour. Should be getting home about six o’clock then.”

You sighed, locking eyes with Jo. She didn’t like it either.

“I know, sweetheart, but you know we need the money.” He said remorseful, leaning back to see your face a bit. “It’s just one more hour. Not too bad, right?”

You nodded, pushing yourself away to turn to the sink, turning on the hot water. “Dinner’s on the table. Joyce brought over a lasagna.” You blinked back tears as you waited for the sink to fill up so you could clean the numerous baby bottles.

Eddie looked from the table to you. “You gonna eat with me?”

“Got too much to do.”

He sighed, knowing you were upset about the news, but what else was he supposed to do? Money was essential, and he would do anything to support the both of you.

He gave Jo another kiss before putting her back into the mobile, leaning up against the counter to get a look at your face. He frowned at the sight of your tears. “Baby,”

You sniffled, your hands red from the scolding water. “I’m fine.” You said dismissively. “Just eat your dinner.”

“Hey,” He sat up straight. “Don’t be like that. Talk to me.” He cupped your shoulder.

“I don’t feel like talking.” You brushed his hand off. “I’ve got too much fucking work to do, but you wouldn’t know since you’re not ever fucking here, because you’re always fucking working.” You snapped, throwing a baby bottle at the floor, bubbles splattering across the counter.

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock at your outburst, mouth falling ajar. His pride wanted him to snap right back, but he knew you were right. You got the brunt of parenthood. He wasn’t going through what you were. He heard about the bad days. He didn’t experience them.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice broke, placing your soapy hands on the counter. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired, I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” He swallowed, trying to bring you close.

“Just-” You brushed him away again. “Just eat your dinner, please.” You looked to him with tearful, pleading eyes. “I got too much to do.”

He looked at you in disbelief, while you looked at Joanna. He gave a sad nod before leaving you be.

•

You were sobbing on the floor, baby girl in your arms, propped up by your knees. She’d been crying all day, had barely ever stopped. The house was now again an absolute wreck and you’d gotten nothing done. You had spit up on your neck, dried and irritated. Your breasts were throbbing, sore and tender. She’d about sucked them dry and you cried the entire time. You’d had enough and put her in her crib, hoping she’d cry it out like Joyce said. She had to hate you, why else could you not get her to stop crying. Her feeding schedule was normal, she never had trouble, and while nursing hurt badly, you’d had luck with not getting any clogged ducts.

“Fuck,” You cried after shutting the door. Your chest was bubbled with emotions, teary eyes scanning the mess of your small home. It was hard to move around in there, especially with a baby, but you didn’t want to bother Eddie with requesting a more expensive home. He did enough as is. You’d felt guilty for snapping at him like you did, but you were at your absolute wits end. You were on the floor folding laundry an hour later when Eddie came home.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie smiled, looking around for his daughter. “Joey asleep?”

“Finally.” You glanced up at him briefly. “She’s been crying all day. I haven’t had time to do anything at all.”

“Well,” He sat down beside you, grabbing the clothes from your hand. “I want to take you out tonight. I called Robin and Steve and figured we could all go out to dinner. It’ll be good for you to see them.”

You laughed shortly before continuing your work. “Sounds nice, Eddie, but I’m too busy.”

“Nonsense.” He dismissed, taking the clothes yet again and pulling the both of you off the floor as you protested. “Go take a shower, baby. Joyce is going to babysit. She’s on her way over now.”

He was serious. Your face fell. “Eddie.” You swallowed, sighing heavily. “Please, I- honey, thank you, that’s sweet, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” He raised his hand. “You’ve not been out in weeks. You’re too cooped up in here, doll. You need to get out of the house. Steve and Robin are on their way too.”

“What?” You widened your eyes. “Eddie! No, this place is a disaster!” You panicked, your hair falling out of your messy, lazy braid. “God damnit, Eddie!”

“Oh, come on, don’t start getting mad again.” He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Y/n, I’m trying to help here, okay? No offense, but you’re not making it very easy on me.”

“Oh, my god.” You squeezed your eyes shut, running your hands through your hair. “I’m so damn sorry that you’re having a hard time, Eddie!”

“You don’t have to be so rude all the time, you know?” He threw down his work jacket, taking a step with his heavy boots. “I bust my ass all day and have to worry about the money because I don’t want you worrying about that shit! You’ve got enough on your plate, I know you do, but so do I! Now, will you just let me please take you out?”

“Eddie,” You sobbed, your internal damn breaking. “Eddie, I can’t. The house is such a mess and I have so much to do.” Your face crumpled into tears of hysterics, your hands moving from your sides to your belly. “I’m sorry- I’m trying s-so hard to keep everything together for you but I can’t- god, she hates m-me!” You sniffled, node snotty and red.

“Y/n,” He sighed, face relaxing into a frown.

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “I love her so much but- but it’s just..how am I supposed to do this everyday! I’m so exhausted and I smell and my boobs hurt so bad!” You sobbed, shoulders shaking from the weight of your heartache. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a bitch, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey, hey, shh,” He gathered you close, arms entangling around you tightly, hoping to ease your pain. “It’s alright, it’s alright, baby, calm down, shh,” He rocked you, large palm smoothing your hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“I don’t feel pretty anymore.” You wept into his shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He squeezed you. “You’re always beautiful to me. I’m so sorry you’ve been struggling so much. I should’ve been paying more attention. I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.” He kissed your shoulder, then your cheek.

“I just want you to be proud of me.” You sniffled. “I feel like such a mess and this house, this house that you pay for, I can’t ever keep fucking clean.”

“Honey, I am proud of you.” He took your face in his hands. “I’m so proud of you. The things your body can do is incredible. The things you do every day is incredible. Watching you be a mother is the most amazing thing I know I’m ever going to witness. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“Credit for what?” You groaned, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “For complaining? For being ungrateful?”

“You’re not ungrateful.” He softened his brown eyes. “You’re having a hard time. It doesn’t make you ungrateful.”

“I’m just sorry.” You whimpered. “Do you still love me?”

He couldn’t help but smile at your innocence. “I’m not ever gonna stop.”

He wound up calling Steve shortly after and told him it would be another time, and that he needed to take care of his girls. He pampered you all night and made sure you didn’t lift a finger cleaning the house. He fed the baby with her bottle while you took a shower, tidying things up along the way. Your shower was almost forty five minutes. He’d ordered chinese food and had it ready when you got out. Joanna sat in her playpen while you both ate.

It really wasn’t much to Eddie, but these actions to you meant more than he could ever say. You laid on his chest on the couch, watching wheel of fortune until you both drifted off to sleep.

[phfenomena]

❝you are the only exception.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

request- Hi! Can I request a tom blyth x f!reader based on The Only Exception by Paramore? maybe something where that becomes their song? Thank you 🥹

A/N- this song is so depressing but i tried my hardest to romanticize it LMAO

and that was the day that i promised i would not sing for love, if it didn’t exist.

your bed is empty and cold as you roll over and stare out the window. it’s impossible to yearn for something so dearly that you don’t even want, for something you can’t have. love is the last experience you should be wanting to taste, you have your own life.

maybe i know deep in my soul that love never lasts.

you’ve had your share of flings, sure, but their touch never ignited a burning desire to be with them forever within you. they took up ten percent of your effort and time and you couldn’t care less about it.

and i’ve always lived like this, keeping a comfortable distance. and up until now i’ve sworn to myself that i’m content with loneliness, because none of it was worth the risk. but you are the only exception.

till you met tom, and he moved in and dropped his bags in his mind. you met him while working on a movie and you did the makeup of his co-star, but he always found himself in your trailer. chatting and laughing away the time in between shoots that he shouldn’t have shared with you. you found yourself thinking of him when you should’ve been asleep hours ago, the way his crinkled when he laughed, and the way he always stopped and listened whenever you had something to share.

you wake up every morning excited to work, excited to see tom. you’ve began bringing two coffees in the morning- and memorizing toms order in the process. it’s almost as if your life had been in black and white until he came along and lit everything up. he ignited you and left your hands shaking and itching to reach out and touch him, not just to fix his hair but to feel him. feel how he’s real, how he’s alive, and know that your mind didn’t conjure him up to entertain yourself.

you find yourself spending time with tom outside of set, a quick coffee run, a late night conversation over dinner, or a quick phone call to ask his opinion on a dress you found at the mall.

i’ve got a tight grip on reality, but i can’t let go of what’s in front of me here. i know you’re leaving in the morning when you wake up, leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream.

he finds home within you, slowly creeping into your life until your brain runs on him. slowly weaseling himself into your bed. the scenarios you once used to lull yourself to sleep were in front of you for you to touch, but he never stays. you never wake up in his arms, sometimes you wonder how he estimates when he needs to go before you wake up. before you wake up and really see him, really get to know what you guys are, or what you guys aren’t.

love is a chore, you know that. it’s tiring, draining, and it even eats you up from the inside out. someone else can ruin you in a blink of an eye, no, they will ruin you in the blink of an eye. but he’s the only exception.

your sat on your floor. the air is filled with giggles and red cheeks, it smells like wine and desperation. your guitar is sitting on your lap, having played tom any song he wanted. you’ve gone through taylor swift already and you could barley get the lovely lyrics out with laughing.

the melody of paramore begins to fill the air until the walls start closing in, until you’re in a box with tom. you’ve been careful, but when he inches forward and you meet him in the middle. it was all worth the risk. because he is the only exception.

[headspace-hotel]

Dwarf fortress update:

My population is 300+ now and i've been amusing myself with conducting raids on the elves. The loot from the elves is crap, the main purpose of raiding is to steal their animals.

The first couple raids I did yielded several dingoes and a couple of grizzly bears (which apparently can be trained for war). Since then, I've gotten large numbers of: weasels, badgers, moose, leopards, jaguars, cougars, wolves, great horned owls, black bears, and armadillos, plus a pair of tigers and one cheetah.

The benefit in having lots of animals is that you can make them adoptable as pets, and dwarves that like a certain species will be very happy to adopt them. One of my miners likes wolves and he has 4 pet wolves now. Dwarves can also have preferences for a certain species as food or the skins and bone thereof as a crafting material.

I finally broke and made dungeons and appointed a dungeon master, but as it turns out incarceration in dwarf fortress has about the same benefit to public health and welfare that it does in real life. I was able to convict and imprison the dwarves that keep throwing tantrums and killing other dwarves, but while caged their mental state declined. Furthermore a bunch of my other dwarves were caged for reasons I do not know, and a couple of them went stark raving mad or slipped into melancholy from the isolation.

It has been a consistent feature of my fortresses that I have a few dwarves that are constantly depressed and violent, and nothing seems to improve their state. I can't kill them because it makes me feel bad. Troublingly, a factor in the development of this phenomenon seems to be acquiring a disability. One of my murderous dwarves has apparently permanent nervous system damage and has lost the ability to stand, and I suspect that his inability to move quickly between areas to meet his needs helped precipitate the development of misery. It seems like the dwarves would be clever enough to construct mobility aids beyond crutches.

Most of my dwarves are stressed because of unmet needs, and I have been wringing my brain over how to convince the dwarves to meet them. For example most of them are stressed by the need to pray to one or more of their gods, but I already have temple complexes established for those gods!!! Sometimes they are stressed over not praying to their god while standing in the temple to another god. I'm thinking of putting an array of levers in each temple and telling dwarves to pull them in order to make dwarves visit the temples regularly.

The other major unmet needs are "Acquire object" and "Be extravagant," which is a source of total perplexment for me, because there is high quality jewelry and items everywhere. I have been trying to encourage them to pick up items by making finished goods stockpiles for them to fill everywhere, but it doesn't seem to help.

Many dwarves also have a need to "Craft object/Be creative," which I don't know how to fix either, because it takes like, a whole week in-game for anyone to pick up a crafting job assigned at a workshop. Everyone wants to "craft object" nobody wants to stop "socializing" and craft the object.

Since dwarves like waterfalls so much, I have a waterfall going through my fortress that drains into the caves below, and the area where it drains into grates has a well and soap stockpile and I've designated it a meeting area. I also have 4 separate taverns each with musical instruments.

In order to run so many raids, i have to have a large number of militias. Being in militias seems to initially boost mental health and then cause negative mental health impacts, so I am forced to rotate dwarves in and out of the militias; I regularly disband squads and re-form them with approximately half experienced dwarves and half new recruits. Setting them to train does virtually nothing to develop their skills, but it does make them keep their armor on, so I have set them to train pretty much constantly.

I wish I hadn't raided and destroyed the necromancer tower so soon in the save; the undead hordes were great target practice for my military.

Being at war with every elf civilization has a similar effect, since there are ambushes, but the trouble is, I'm also at war with the goblin civilizations. Last night, a goblin siege started in the middle of an elf raid, which meant my military had to fight off both at once. Around 20 dwarves were killed, including one of my Legendary fighters. The rest were pretty severely wounded.

The hospitals were full of patients, and then I realized I had fallen victim to the dreaded supply chain disruption. Despite having a constantly running soap industry, I was completely out of soap.

A common source of supply chain distributions in my fortress is my permanently depressed dwarves, which regularly topple workshops causing work orders to be destroyed. At some point my lye making work order had gone to be with Jesus, and I hadn't had soap in a long time. I quickly loaded up lots of orders to make lye, but even marking orders as top priority doesn't make them happen much faster, as dwarves are always doing important shit like "Socialize" and "Pen/pasture some fucking baby gosling that wandered downstairs" and "Listen to Poetry" in the middle of a crisis.

(Cleaning raw fish and collecting webs in particular are more important to dwarves during an emergency situation than anything else in the world, which is why both of those activities are restricted).

I ended up canceling basically every other work order in the fortress to try to get someone, out of the 300 dwarves in my fortress, to work on making soap, but as soon as the soap was made, it was appropriated to clean up random blood puddles on the floor. By the time ANY soap made it into the hospitals, everyone had infected wounds, and no one could be bothered to clean them, because it was more important to do some random chore or mope around.

In other news, I've had to install stairs next to the trees in the fruit gathering zone, because the dwarves keep removing stepladders while other dwarves are up in the trees, causing them to get stuck up there and starve/thirst to death.

[distorted59]

please elaborate on the dracula monster rp you mentioned in your kirk headcanons…PLEASE!!

YES OMG!!!! THANK YOU SM FOR ASKING THIS!!!!

this idea has been FEEDING my vampire kirk brain rot so well, esp those fanarts on insta👹👹 really check out @ fuzzsux on insta CAUSE THE ART IS SO GOOD!!!

anyways..... HERE'S MY IDEA FOR IT (any era works tbh)

Bite me please

summary: Kirk wants to play dracula and he wants you to play his bride...

pairing: '93!kirk x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw/smut, biting, roleplay, use of safe words,

word count: 1158

A/N: i was debating wether to make this really kinky or nah.

you'd always known Kirk's favorite monster were vampires. especially Dracula and it's whole story arc. he's a hopeless romantic with a dark kinky side. which you don't mind at all, of course.

he loves the idea of him being a powerful, mind infiltrating, seductive, blood sucking creature. who would stalk you, love you, claim you, and mark you as his bride.

it would start with him biting your neck for fun, not real harshly or anything. just some playful bites. and you seem to like them. he would get all excited and wanted to ask you right away, because this has been on his mind for a while now.

but, he still sorta backs out. you see he wants to ask you something, so you do it first.

"baby? what's wrong?" you slide your hand over his back. "Something on your mind?"

"yeah, actually." he has a wide smile on his face, which slowly turns into a smirk. "would you be interested in... uhh... roleplay?"

your eyes widen a bit and your breath hitches. you have a puzzled look on your face and let out a short giggle.

"what'd you have in mind?" you grin back.

"what do you think?" he leans down and bites your neck again, harder this time.

"do you want to drain me from my blood, Count Dracula?" you say in a bad, sensual transylvanian accent.

"oh..." Kirk groans and lets out a breathy chuckle against your neck. "i'd like to drain you from something else too."

you moan softly as he places more sloppy kisses on your neck, going up to your jaw and eventually kisses your lips.

"i'll take that as a yes, hm?" his eyes show a dark gaze, you can see the passion and lust in them.

"yes."

⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

you're walking around the house, wearing some leathery outfit. which Kirk had picked out for you. along with a tight, blood red corset that is hugging your figure.

"so much for classic." you mumble to yourself. the house is dark and to be honest, you feel a little.... scared.

you don't know if it's the excitement bubbling in your lower belly or the actual thought of being haunted by your boyfriend...

"Kirk?" you call out faintly, looking around for him. "are you gonna jump out and attack me or something?" you say jokingly.

"that all depends, my love." Kirk's dark voice whispers to you, you can feel his breath against your neck.

you turn around and he immediately grabs you and slams you against the wall. he starts kissing your neck and leaving a few bites here and there. he moves down and starts biting on your collarbone, he looks up at you through his eyelashes.

he's wearing a ruffled blouse and a pair of black dress pants you've never seen him wear before. His chest glistens through the low cut shirt, a few faint love bites visible.

"color?" he whispers.

"green..." you breathe out.

"I'm going to drain you and make you mine." he growls. then, he drags you by your arm and pulls you into your shared bedroom. he pushes you on the bed and you scramble back against the headboard.

"w-what are you going to do to me?" you try to sound scared and get into your role as the 'victim'.

"look at you, scared little thing." he tuts and crawls over to you. "you're going to be my bride." his eyes shine with passion and power. you actually feel thrilled.

"are you going to hurt me?" you look into his eyes.

"just for a bit, darling." he tugs on the laces of your corset. "i'll make you think of something else."

Kirk nuzzles his face in your neck and drags his nose slowly down your collar bone and towards your breasts.

"you smell so fucking good." he groans.

you can only respond with a moan and your hands make way through his hair.

"hmm, are you ready, my love?" he kisses your jaw.

"please." you nod.

he pulls down your pants along with your panties and he's taking his sweet time with it too. he grins teasingly at you and slowly slides his hands up your legs and thighs.

"Kirk..." you whine.

"gonna mark you, my love"

he pulls down his pants and boxers and pumps his throbbing cock slowly, he slides it between your pussy lips and the both of you moan and shiver with pleasure.

"you're already wet enough for me, love." he decides to pull back and slide his fingers inside of your dripping cunt first. "and i didn't even really touch you yet..."

"k-kirk!" you moan as he stretches you out by adding a second finger. he curls them up and you gasp, letting your head fall back.

"there, all ready for me." he groans and lines himself up with your cunt.

he slides in and starts biting your neck harshly, you let out a moan that's mixed with pain and pleasure. you're positive you'll have a bruised neck with bite marks in the morning.

normally he's quite the one to talk, but he's too busy fucking and sinking his teeth into you. too pussy drunk to function.

Kirk's hips slam against yours, his moans muffled by your skin as yours are the only ones that fills the room. your whines drive him insane and he bites you harder.

"color?" he growls, his sweet intention gives you butterflies. but his cock pumping into you make them flutter away.

"nghh- gr-green!" the biting hurts but you like it. you swear if he keeps going, he might draw blood.

he bites different spots and sucks on them too, it drives you fucking insane and pushes you over the edge.

he keeps up a steady rhythm and feels you squeeze around him, he stops biting you and kisses you passionately.

"are you going to cum?" he grins, his lips red from marking you up.

you nod as tears stream down your face, the pleasure becoming too much for you.

"cum for me, my love."

you moan his name as your orgasm washes over you, Kirk keeps pumping into you like a wild dog in rut. he moans and grits his teeth, needing to bite on something.

"use me, bite me." you whine.

he bites down on the other side of your neck and cums inside of you, you can feel it shooting up inside you and he twitches like crazy.

he lets go of your neck and falls on top of you. he takes a few breaths and rolls over on his back, pulling you on top of him.

the two of you lay in each others arms and try to calm down.

"that was fucking amazing." he breathes out. "i love you so much, baby." he kisses your temple.

"was.. so good.." you murmur, feeling absolutely exhausted.

"it was." he grins.

he slides his fingers over the bite marks carefully, and smirks proudly.

you feel yourself drifting off, feeling safe in the arms of your monster-loving boyfriend.

"i want to really taste you next time."

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

CAKE FOR A DEAD MAN (I)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER II

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 4.6k

WARNINGS: Angst, problems with food & image, mentions of stalking, unwanted gifts, death, violence, gore, blood, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Color, as most would say, is one of the best aspects of sight. It allows such a myriad of emotions to be expressed—even felt. Red reminds us of passion; navy for elegance and a certain mystique. Not only seen but processed on such a deeper level. Refractions of light that explode into the retina, rod and cone cells that send signals to the brain to help detect that phenomenon like a gift of evolution. 

But when you can’t see any of that—color—who’s to explain what the red of the roses actually looks like above a deep shade of gray? That navy blue looks even darker, too. Closer to black. Light purple becomes the same hue as the curtains your mother hangs on the windows, but you can’t tell if that’s really purple or not. How can it be anything other than slate? People tell you it is…at least, those who’ve already met their partners. Their soulmates. 

But there’s little hope for you on that front, really.

You wave to the photographer, calling out a broken Russian goodbye as he smiles warmly at you, nodding his head in your direction before watching you walk out of the studio room’s doors. A large gaggle of other finely-clad women surrounds you on the way to the changing rooms. 

Even with three-and-a-half years of living in this northern country, your mastery of the native language starts and ends with simple pleasantries.

The modeling agency was packed today and you still had so much to do. You stuff down your internal list of scheduled fittings, meetings, and more booked photoshoots that extend into the chilled evening of Yekaterinburg, Russia. There was just so little time. 

Gray hallways and white overhead lights meet your eyes between blinks, potted plants boring and drab. If you could see the shades in between the leaves you’d know you would find them beautiful, but like this…well, they’re just sad.

You shake your head and shuffle to the back of the group, throwing tiny smiles to the kind, and stunning, women who you’ve had little real conversation with. One kisses you on the cheek and pats your shoulder, and you laugh brightly before pulling to the rear, face heating.

“The bastard is finally dead!” The familiar voice causes you to freeze with one heeled foot in the air—fingers picking at the strap of your silk dress absentmindedly before it, too, stills. They were always forcing you into silk with feathered accent pieces of intricate detail. Like a bird, or, Seraph, more precisely. 

Blinking in surprise, you turn around just in time to lock onto the drained shades that make up Alyona Arkadyevna Solovyova before she grips your shoulders harshly. 

Her collarbone-length hair swishes heavily, but it’s not as violent as the smile on her sharp face. 

“Finally, little Солнышко! This is perfect news. The bastard is dead!” Alyona’s English is very good, and of course, it would be—when she was younger she dreamed of being an English teacher. That was before she realized she was just about the most attractive woman of her generation. The harsh Russian accent still bleeds through.

You laugh and grip her long, pale, arms; seeing her in a blouse and pencil skirt as you tilt your head, asking, “Christ, Alyona, give me a warning next time. If I rip anything I’m in deep shit.” 

“Gah,” Your friend waves a hand and releases you, tiny eyes creasing, “forget about that—did you not hear me the first time? My father, Seraph, listen to me! He is finally dead! It happened just this morning but I only got word ten minutes ago.” She laughs, throwing her hands up, and you hide your amused exasperation, limbs tired but it won’t stop you from appreciating your friend’s enthusiasm. Alyona squeals, “A train hit him!”

You cringe internally, face pulling taunt. “Oh,” your chest sputters as you clear your throat, “that’s, uh, that’s…great?”

“Of course it is!” Hands capture your cheeks, squishing as you worry about the state of your makeup. Alyona speaks brightly, “We need to celebrate, Солнышко. Come.”

Before you can protest she’s dragging you away from the other women and the direction of the changing rooms, all had stopped and were listening intently from behind; nosey. Everyone in the Allurement Modeling Agency building, AMA for short, just had that way about them—your business was their business and vice versa. 

And Alyona had no problem airing out her grievances with her estranged father to the choir. She lived for drama.

“Aly,” You huff a soft breath at her and her bobbing hair. She said it was blonde and you had no other option but to believe her. Not yellow-blonde, she had specified. Ice-blonde. “I can’t go out in company property. Plus, I have a photoshoot for Chanel in under an hour. The photographer needs me to be ready.”

But it seems your concerns fall on deaf ears and you can’t help but chuckle and grin at your friend's lack of care about work. She herself was a model, but the entire company halted when she said it should. 

You were truly surprised they hadn’t fired her yet. 

“And I’m sure Chanel has an absolutely hideous dress for you, my Seraph.” Ashen eyes turn back to stare at you, and once she realizes you wouldn’t fight her, her grip releases. “Some Медовик will do you good before the vultures close in, yes? Let us hope they don’t shackle you to those damning lace lingerie sets over cake.” 

Your head tilts with a short sigh, and you walk beside the woman in your clacking heels. The sound of the authentic honey cake seemed to itself to coat your insides with a lust for it—dripping layers of plush gray sponge with pale cream. Your mouth waters. 

“I’m only eating half a piece.” You settle slowly, though you hate your own words as your stomach rolls with hunger. Some time outside will do you good, anyway. Perhaps you’ll learn to photosynthesize like a plant. “I still have to be able to fit into those fabric contraptions, you know.”

Alyona squeals and loops her arm in yours easily, bright teeth in a grin like a cat. Ever one to run into objects and lacking a general ability to walk in a straight line, the support from Alyona was much appreciated. Her help with lending an arm went far, especially for you. 

Your heart warms with soft care.

“I’ll take it! We can split one.” When you both make it to the front of the building, having grabbed your jackets and purses on the way there, you come to three familiar faces while chatting with Alyona about both of your upcoming bookings. 

“I was under the impression you had the day filled,” Petya speaks, heavy accent like stone. The clean-shaven man in his late thirties was built and wearing a dark suit, the tallest out of the other two—Aleksandr and Yefim—who both wear similar outfits. They were resting in the front seating area of AMA as they’d been doing for weeks already, waiting for you to come and go like escorts.

Well, bodyguards, to be more precise. Yours.

You smile politely to them while Yefim sends one back with his boyish charm and dimples. “On break. We’re off to get some Medovik down the street. I can pay for you if you’d want a piece.” 

“Of course, the three will have to tag along, hm?” Alyona huffs, staring blandly as you both slow to a stop near the large white entrance, colored as if it was Heaven’s gates. Your friend had said coloring around this building was rare. Whites and grays. Green chairs, apparently. “I’m just ecstatic.” 

Petya didn’t like you, and, you assumed, Aleksandr didn’t either. With the ladder, his sharp face was always too blank to tell; body tight and unwelcoming with weasel-like eyes. Petya was simpler, blatantly more outward with his distaste.

“Not a smart idea. This isn’t a game to play, девушка.” Alyona’s face tightens, and you swiftly placate her with a squeeze to her bicep. You level Petya with a tilt of your head and a calm look. 

“What harm could a bite to eat do? It won’t cost you your life.” You chuckle smoothly. “Let me get you all something—it’s nearly noon, I’m sure you’re all hungry.”

“I could eat,” Yefim eases in, hands resting in his pockets as he stares at you. His accent was calmer than the others, and his face softer. Out of all of them, you liked him best. 

Your eyes rest on Yefim with a thankful expression. He smirks and nods. Aleksandr, as always, says nothing beyond a small scoff and a look around the room with shifting feet. 

When the tallest of the group does nothing to push back his sneer and heavy glare, you hum under your breath as you expect the words before they rush from his sharp mouth.

“I will have to speak to your mother about this.” The accent makes him sound so stiff—like a statue. A man built up of gravel and snow; concrete in his veins instead of blood. 

“Oh, yes,” Alyona mutters, “the Consul herself.” 

Your nose moves in a sigh, but you ease the situation with a simple, “Do whatever you need to, Petya. I know it’s your job and I’m thankful regardless, but we’ll be back in less than an hour. It’s no big deal.” You pause, plastering on an innocent look. “We’re hungry.”

 For whatever reason you always envisioned Petya with dark eyes—blacks more deep than the clothes they put Alyona in to off-set your given whites when you two are fitted together. But the man’s eyes were so painfully light it made you not want to stare into them. 

Petya grunts and continues to glare, working his jaw. After a moment he lets off a large huff and shakes his head in disapproval.

“Half-an-hour. No more.” 

Alyona manhandles you out the door quickly, growling, “I do not know how you can stand this, Seraph. Bullshit, all of it.” 

“It’s only until everything goes back to normal,” you reason, hearing three sets of footsteps behind you as the guards follow into the chilled air of Yekaterinburg. There was no reason to take a car, everything was within walking distance of one another in this dense city populated by over one million people. “My mother’s worried is all. I’m not going to make their lives harder while they’re only doing what they’re told to do.” 

Light eyes dart to your face, your friend’s hand guiding you along the concrete with a dim concern. “I do not like all of this, Солнышко. It’s been months…Are the gifts still coming?”

Your expression tightens, lips going stiff. Alyona notices and changes the subject for now.

“Ah, but what am I doing—I’m ruining the celebration! Come, come, we will talk about my engagement to Nikifor while we eat.” 

Nikifor, her soulmate. The one who brought her color and music with his performance at a nightclub two years ago; the only thing standing in the way of their marriage was Alyona’s strict father. Something about the man wanting someone with higher standing than a musician for his famous daughter. 

“How is he?” You ask, blinking away the thought of finally being able to see color for the first time and how that must feel. A piece of you would always be envious of that. 

Alyona must have blushed because she always tilts her nose lower when she does. You smile and chuckle under your breath. 

“Wonderful,” is all she offers, but the giddy grin on her lips is knowledge enough. 

You both make it to the small bakery at the end of the long street, heels clicking and cheeks chilled. People had turned to look at you, gaping at the two models still in their expensive clothes and attempting to take pictures on their phones. All were strong-armed by the three men close behind you who bark things in Russian. 

Alyona opens the door of the bakery for you and you accidentally knock your shoulder into the frame, giving a sheepish smile before carefully walking to your regular corner table. Your tall friend goes to order while you take your seat with a sigh, Petya, Aleksandr, and Yefim all shuffling in and sending glances to you; looking over the interior with sharp and calculating eyes. 

It’s like they think the sky’s going to fall, you surmise, twitching your lips their way. They’ve been here before with me, do they still not trust it?

Back when things had been less serious they’d allowed you to go where you wished with them—parks, for walks, stores—now it was only work and home. As if you didn’t already feel so trapped. 

“You boys can pick what you want,” you call to them softly. “My treat.”

“On the job,” is all Petya grunts before he takes his normal seat at the table closest to the door; everything in his bright sight. Your hand lightly tightens on the table, but you keep your expression placid. 

You’d tried to get him to lighten up, Aleksandr too, but the two weren’t as open to you as Yefim. There was a blatant distrust of Westerners here, even if you had given up your citizenship to move where your mother works in the Consulate building of this very city. 

While she was still employed by the American government, that didn’t stand in any sense with you. But on top of you being a famous model, your mother was well-known, regardless, and that ultimately fell back on you. 

Yefim’s gray eyes flickered to a case of Bird Milk Cake with a hidden longing as he grasped the back of his chair and slid into it—floorboards creaking loudly. You notice and chuckle under your breath, cheeks heating at the sight as the man’s gaze moves to you and blinks in surprise. He quickly averts his gaze and clears his throat, fixing the collar of his dress shirt.

You’d buy him a piece before you left; maybe kiss his cheek just to see him go all blurry-eyed. He certainly was adorable.

“The baker’s boy is staring again,” Alyona’s voice snaps into your head, and you peer at your friend’s face, startled. 

“What?” You ask as a plate is set in the middle of the table holding a single piece of Medovik. Your mouth fills with saliva, fingers immediately moving like a starved dog to grab a fork and cut into the layers; you shovel it into your mouth before you hiss to pace yourself. 

You chew slowly, swallow, and give Alyona a confused look.

She slides you an unimpressed frown. “The boy. At the front.”

“He’s probably gaping at you,” you take another bite, rubbing at your cheek with your free hand as people walking by the front window peek in with wide eyes; your men glare and move their chairs as the ground squeaks again. 

Your friend scoffs and mutters in Russian, shaking her head. Her hand waves quickly, barking, “Look!” 

Rolling your eyes with a small smile, you look over and dab your face with a napkin before you get locked into a staring match with the dark eyes of the man up-front. 

He wears an apron, head a mess of curls, and his upper arms stained with flour. You blink and pause, wondering if…perhaps…A pause, a sickly hope in your chest…but nothing happens and the contact is broken when he ducks his head before looking at the counter. 

Gritting your teeth, you focus back on your cake and shove aside the sinking feeling in your chest. 

Idiot, you criticize yourself. Now why would you think that would work?

“Nothing, then?” Alyona clicks her tongue and takes up her own fork. “Do not fret, we will find him eventually, Seraph.”

“It’s not like I would know.” The air goes a temperature warmer—bodies stilling. 

While soulmate colorblindness was simply the reality of life, diagnosed colorblindness was still a curse that couldn’t be solved. If you ever saw your soulmate…you wouldn’t even know it. 

All because of that stupid accident. 

You act unbothered by the shift in the conversation and sigh. “You said you wanted to talk about your engagement,” your words remind the woman and she sets off into a tangent about the dress and the location after a moment of quiet concern. A church, she explained, the big one down the road where they’ll be a few days after the civil ceremony and the outer city venue. 

Alyona is only twenty, but you know that it’s incredibly common here to get married this early. Listening, you offer input here and there, but as it always does, the topic falls back to you as you eat the slice of cake dedicated to a dead man. 

Your knife-driven problem. 

The gifts. 

Already, you begin feeling uncomfortable.

“Aly,” you try to grumble, resisting the urge to eat the entire piece of Медовик as you put your utensil down. Your hand jerks over the table and you glare down at it in annoyance, ignoring the tensed nerves. “It’s not important—”

“How many more pieces of jewelry has he sent, hm? Letters?” The woman shivers and rubs at her arms. “It is horrendous behavior. Total fuck-up. And the fact that no one has caught him? Gah!”  

Your spine straightens itself, eyes sliding to the people gawking outside the window and seeing the multiple faces, shuffling bodies that pile next to each other like sardines in a can. 

“I just don’t want to think about it, okay?” You shake your head, turning away as a pit forms in your gut; realizing the fragility of your psyche when you think about the fact that anyone outside could be the source of your problem. The stalker. “If it’s just the gifts I can deal with them—the letters I never even read. If I ignore it they’ll stop eventually. All of this can be one big bad dream.” 

Your hand continues to shake on the table, not exactly in your realm of control just as the inability to walk in a straight line is. It was no wonder why they never let you do runway shows, you think sarcastically. You’d be stuck in a photographer’s room for the rest of your career.

Alyona pushes a strand of her hair out of her face. 

“Seraph…you know it does not work like that.” Of course you did, but asking for help was never your strong suit. And your mother had already given you three well-trained bodyguards to escort you to and from work—that was more than enough protection. 

When you think of the expensive parcels that had been dropped at AMA’s front desk you had to restrain the honey cake coming back up your gullet. All of them had been expensive; pieces you could afford on a model's pension but still wildly elegant to even touch much less own in multitude. Gold bracelets inlay with black opal and sapphire, necklaces with Tanzanite, and rings of ruby, your mother had told you this when you had brought them to her off of only seeing washed-out tones on your part. 

You never showed anyone the letters; they lived in a lockbox under the bed in your apartment. Concerningly, lately the ‘presents’ had been losing the plot. Random bits of glass and shiny items—a slow deterioration but somehow even more scary. 

Even the older women at the front desk were softening the usual sneers they wore when you walked in every day, no longer chiding you in Russian they know you can’t understand. The way they seemed pitiful rubbed you the wrong way.

You pull your jacket closer to you and rub a hand slowly along your thigh in a soothing gesture. Aly pulls her brows in. 

“I want to help you, little Солнышко, but I don’t think this is something I can fix with my womanly charms.” Your lips release a snort, tiny chuckles hitting the air. 

Alyona joins you before silence once again lapses. 

“...Do you feel alright?” Your friend asks honestly. Worry was plain on her face. 

You smile, but your lungs tighten in your chest while your heart acts like a dancer and lightly skips beats. “By next month,” your hand shakes over your thigh, “all of this will be in the past. No one could keep this up forever. I just have to…wait it out. It’s only the gifts, I can live with that—jewelry isn’t hurting anybody except his wallet.” 

The woman narrows her eyes at you and frowns, but it’s not long before she goes back to her half of the Медовик and takes a bite with a moan of enjoyment. You rarely lied, so you supposed she had no trouble believing you.

If only you could fraud yourself like that.

“Quite a wealthy bastard, though, no?” Alyona slyly pokes fun and you blink quickly. 

“Aly!” 

“I am just saying!” 

You press your hand to your lips to hide your loud laugh, Yefim looking over with a certain airiness to his expression before Aleksandr jerks his shoulder to face him back forward. The two glare at each other as Petya stares violently at the front door—daring those outside to try and come in and ask for a picture. 

While you hadn’t come back to this bakery in a while, the three men always seemed to pick the exact same table; the one with the perfect view of everything going on near the door. While it was a small distance away, it allowed for quick action in any direction. 

You blink away as the wooden boards under the bodyguards’ table creak again, loud enough to cause Alyona to frown in that direction. Petya sends an annoyed look down and scowls. 

“How do you know he’s not just stealing them,” you bring back the conversation, smirking. “You know? Maybe he’s a,” your voice lowers an octave in fake secrecy and Aly’s eyes roll, amused, “jewel thief.”

“God above,” the woman huffs. “That would be the twist.”

The both of you joked and picked fun, but that half an hour went past quickly, and soon it was time to get back to the agency so you could change again. The photographer couldn’t take pictures of air and play it off as you with a smile and a nervous stutter. 

As you stand you stare long at the cases of baked goods, licking the remnants of cream off your lips 

“We can buy another, Seraph,” Aly suggests, fixing her coat. You shake your head immediately. 

“No, no, I’ve already had enough sugar. I had two muffins for breakfast. Chocolate.” Your face pulls into a cringe at the words. “Cheat day.” 

Alyona’s lips go tighter, but she says nothing as her hair is puffed out of her face. She out of everyone knows how demanding modeling can be—your entire life is dictated by two things: calories, and appointments. 

You turn to Yefim with his wavy hair and his soft, dimpled, smile; casual eyes. Not your soulmate, based on his lack of reaction the first time you had met, but in that time you’d grown a tiny crush on the man, admittingly. He was kind and treated you with respect. Capable and reliable—how could you ask for more than that? 

“Yefim?” Your voice calls out, a smile on your lips. The man looks over and blinks in surprise. He clears his throat, stuttering as he shifts in his seat. The wood tilts slightly under him and he steadies himself on the edge of the table.

“Да, Ma’am?” 

Restraining a giggle, you cock your head as Alyona snorts.

“Do you want a slice of Bird Milk Cake?” Petya slides you a blank look and Aleksandr taps his fingers to the table. You poke fun, “For when you’re on break, of course.” 

Yefim’s eyes sparkle in their colorless state, a handsome smile taking his lips back along his face. He makes a move to stand up, floorboards squealing loudly as weight is lessened. 

“I would be in your debt—”

The world explodes into a slate-gray blaze of heat and hellfire. 

Your body is thrown back before you can even begin to understand that you’re in danger, panic completely bypassed for a total blank sensation of confusion. Spine slapping into the glass of the window, your form is hurled by a vast boom out of the bakery entirely before it slams to the concrete multiple feet away. 

You slide, rolling in a mess of limbs and ripped silk. For a good moment, you have no idea what just transpired, confusedly lifting your head from the ground and blinking below you as everything rings. Your hand grips the side of your head, the thick liquid seeping in between your fingers as you peel it back and look with shaky vision. 

Blackened blood is coated along your palm, slipping along your wrist as you tilt your hand up in horrified uncertainty. 

Everything comes back in a millisecond of screaming and running feet; like a switch being flipped. You snap your head back to what remains of the bakery as blood slides down your temple. 

“A-Alyona?!” Heels sliding, you stand but stumble back down just as quickly, hands slapping against the ground as you raggedly cough more, chest burning from the force at which you’d been thrown. 

What the hell had just happened? An explosion? 

There was little left of the bakery beside the front door, smoke billowing out of the broken windows as gray flames spark with the familiar sound of burning material—a sharp burn is taken into your nostrils. 

Dragging an arm forward, you grasp something warm and wet in an attempt to get up again. You look to the side and immediately scream at what you see.

Yefim’s upper body was completely fine besides the burns and the lack of his hair, the peeling flesh…it was the absence of the entire lower body that struck you with waves of horror. You slam a hand to your lips and wail, slipping back on kicking legs as tears well in your tear ducts.

Guts were leaking over the concrete, and the dark, gaping, wound spread a fast puddle out around the sputtering that made his chest look like it was moving. Eyes flutter, lashes flapping quickly. 

He looked confused, and that was perhaps the worst part of it. 

Yefim died only half a man, his entrails pooling out of his ribcage, only twenty seconds after you’d asked him if he wanted a piece of cake. Your fingers hide the loud sobs as you stare into this blank expression, hand shaking so bad that it hits your nose. 

“I…I,” you stutter, shapes and flashes rushing back and forth at the sides of your vision. Pressure holds at your left shoulder. 

“Seraph!” The sentence falls off into feminine Russian cursing and screaming, a grip shaking you back and forth, urging you to listen. 

There are wails and the roar of cars, but you don’t have to be given a speech to know the truth about the toll as the fire burns hotter and the blood runs faster. Petya, Aleksandr, and Yefim are dead. They had been sitting on top of something that had triggered when Yefim had released weight from it. 

The creaky floorboards. 

“Seraph!” Alyona tries again, grabbing you under the shoulders and dragging you away from the corpse as bystanders’ phones flash with pictures being taken. There’s just so much screaming. “Seraph, please, we need to move! The fire is spreading!”

They had been sitting right on top of it. But…but they always sat there…they…they were always…

In the corner of your eye, a dark phantom looms across the street as the first sirens of the police cars race down the road; a burning silhouette of black mist and ashen smoke.

As the bakery burns and the corpse of Yefim grows cold, it slips away into the forming crowd.

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[lowkeyrobin]

TOMMYINNIT ; body art

summary/prompt ; doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; use of tubbos real name once (lmk if I should change it), wilbur existing (written before he was exposed, stand with victims)

word count ; 750

masterlist

Tommy sat at his desk, happily streaming some Minecraft with Wilbur, Tubbo, and Phil. He notices some thin, black lines forming on his left hand, resting over the WASD keys on his keyboard. They started at the fingers and slowly trailed down to his wrist.

He lightly smiles, seeing that his soulmate is doing the usual, drawing some doodles on their hand in the evening. He refocuses his attention, getting back to his stream.

The next afternoon, he walks about town with Wilbur and Tubbo, having a fun little day out with two of his best friends. They sit down on the ledge of a fountain in the little center of the outdoor mall they were walking about in. Wilbur on the left, Tommy in the middle, and Tubbo on the right.

Tommy looks down at his hand, still stained with black and red marker. Clearly, his soulmate hadn't showered or had been trying to rub it off while washing their hands since yesterday, like they wanted it to stay. Tommy hoped that they were proud of their arts skills. Maybe once they'd met, he could get some temporary sharpie tattoos from them, although they'd forever be twinning with that ideology.

"You good, Tom?" Tubbo asks, tapping the blonde on the shoulder.

He quickly nods, "Yeah, yeah. Just-"

Wilbur cuts him off with a smug smile, "Admiring your soulmate’s artistic ability?"

Tommy silently nods with a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He had no idea who was bound to be with him, but he was already falling in love in a way.

Somehow, they knew that red was his favorite color, how he loved roses and tulips. They frequently drew flowering red vines on their hands and fingers, with a little note reading 'for you, soulmate'.

This time, they left a note at the base of his wrist.

'have a lovely day, blondielocks <3'

Blondielocks.

That dumbass nickname they gave him a few weeks ago while they communicated with markers on their legs. That night created a core memory for the blonde boy.

The next morning, Tommy's legs were still covered in red, green, blue, and purple marker stains. That forced him to sit in the shower with a wash cloth and wipe down his legs and thighs, washing off all he wrote. He patiently waited for them to do the same, and not long after, the colored ink dripped down his legs into the drain, leaving his legs as white as they were before like an empty canvas.

Wilbur lightly shoves Tommy with his arm, "You'll find them soon enough"

"Says you! You're twenty-seven and you still haven't met your soulmate" Tommy frowns.

Will opens his mouth to speak, but closes his lips, unable to come up with something witty yet reasonable to reply with.

He fidgets with his hands while he scans the people walking around, seeing a person with some doodles on their hands walking past with a friend. Upon a bit of creepy staring, Tommy feels something in his brain tingling. A weird, safe sense as he looks at this person. As they walk past, he notices the doodles on their hand are exactly the same as the ones on his hand.

He quickly taps Tubbo on the shoulder, staring at the stranger.

"Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo, Toby! Toby, this is an emergency!"

"What?" Tubbo sighs, setting his phone down as he looks at his blonde friend

Tommy discreetly points towards the person, "I think that's my soulmate! What do I do?" He asks, hushing his voice.

Tubbo shrugs, "Go talk to them, compliment them, I dunno"

Tommy turns to Wilbur who just replies with a smug smile.

"You're no help" the blonde mumbles, standing up as he feels his hands start to shake.

He walks towards the person, tapping them on the shoulder.

They quickly look back with a warm smile.

"HI! Uh, sorry to bother- uhm, I really like your outfit" He awkwardly smiles

They return the awkward smile back, seeing his hand run through his hair.

"Thank you!" They say

They look at his hand, then him, seeing the ink drawn doodles. He shows them his hand, the two sharing thoughts.

They hold their hand out as well, showing the same doodles on their own hand.

"Uh, hi" He awkwardly smiles, "I'm Tommy" He flips his hand over, showing the little message on his wrist, "Or Blondielocks"

They giggle, flipping their wrist over to show the same text.

"I'm Y/N"

[dahliamalfoy97]

DADDY - TOJI (Toji Fushiguro x Reader)

word count: 3,356

WARNING: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Daddy kink, age gap, size kink, degradation kink, choking, slapping, praise kink, penetration, oral sex, blowjob, creampie, etc.

Summary: It’s pretty cliche and the title is pretty self explanatory. Because Toji is a total Daddy and you can’t change my mind.

A/N: also hate towards Megumi because I absolutely adore him and love him in real life too. But his dad is just too fine too not write a one shot about.

Tears stained your cheeks as you found yourself on the steps of the only place you could think of. You didn't know where else to go. It was raining and your clothes were beyond soaked. But you didn't care.

Your knocked on the door. You stood there drained of your usual energy.

A few minutes pass and footsteps approach on the other side. Followed by a clicking sound. The door opens.

"Y/N?" That deep voice is all it takes for your tears to start again.

Big arms immediately pull you into a hard chest. His big frame overtaking your small one. You can't help but cling onto him, your head barely going past his waist.

"Y/N, what's wrong? What happened? Why are you in the rain ? Where's Megumi?"

At the mention of the reason you came here, you sob some more. Unable to speak.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's get you out of the rain and warmed up and then you can tell me what's wrong."

You nod silently, not wanting to let go. Just wanting to be held. Even though it was wrong. But it was Toji and Toji always brought you comfort when you needed it.

He sighs softly, before picking you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you cling to him.

You bury yourself in his chest, inhaling his comforting-yet intoxicating masculine cologne a mix of cedar and rain. As you allow him to carry you around.

He sets you down finally, on the stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Do you want anything to eat?"

"Do you have any Mac and Cheese?"

He grins, "I've always got Mac and cheese for you."

You can't help but smile softly. Toji had always been there for you. Even when you're own father wasn't. He was always around to take care of you. Which is why he was the first place you sought for solace tonight.

"So tell me, what happened ?"

His dark eyes stare at you intently, you glance away, feeling your cheeks flush at the attentive way he looked at you. You fidget with the hem of your soaked T-shirt.

"I caught Megumi and Nobara together."

Toji stops what he's doing, jaw clenching. His big hands gripping the bowl turning white, "you're fûcking serious?"

You shake your head, the image of seeing your boyfriend and your best friend together was etched into your brain.

"I'm going to murder that dumbass."

You can't help but laugh a little, " you can't murder your own son, Mr. Fushiguro."

"He's no longer a son of mine, if he cheated on a beautiful woman like you."

Your heart can't help but warm at his words. And just like always, you couldn't help but feel a little flustered as well.

But you always had brushed the thought away, because this was your boyfriend's dad. He was almost like a father to you. But you knew the thoughts you had about him weren't of him being a father. No you wanted him touch you in sinful ways. You had always had a secret crush on him, but Megumi had asked you out first. But now that Megumi had cheated, your desire for Toji was stronger than ever.

Toji was a very well built man. You never knew what his job really was other than he did some undercover agent stuff. But he was beyond stacked with muscles and broad shoulders and thick thighs that were often the center of your fantasies. He had black messy hair and blue eyes. It was like God hadn't missed a single detail when it came to Toji. For he was perfect in every way.

Just looking at him makes your nipples harden and your thighs clench. Which is all visible because of your damp T-shirt. To which his blue eyes lock on. His hands have set the bowl down.

He stalks towards you, his eyes dark. He takes your chin and grips it with long fingers., "seriously I would kill him for you, I'd do anything for you. You're so fucking perfect. You deserve to be treated like a queen. Because that's what you are. No - you're a fucking goddess." His finger brushes along your lower lip, to which you suck in a breath.

"T-Toji," you stutter, words caught in your throat.

"Sweetheart, can I show you how you deserve to be treated?"

Tears have escaped, to which be wipes them away, making you shudder.

"Please," you whisper.

That's all he needs, before descending his mouth on yours, cradling your face with his big hands. You can't help but whimper at the gentle way he holds you. As if you're fragile and need to be protected. But as soon as you let out that whimper that's all it takes for him to snap, and his gentle kisses turn into hungry ones. He picks you up by the waist, setting you on the counter. His lips never leaving yours. He bites your lip gently before pushing his tongue into your mouth, growling when you moan and tug at his hair.

"That son of mine has no idea, what he's throwing away,," he growls through kisses. "But know from this moment on, you're mine."

You let out another whimper at his possessive claim, speechless once again. Your moans become even louder as his lips leave yours to start leaving kisses along your neck. He tears your shirt, exposing your bra to which he quickly rips too. Leaving your top half completely exposed. You can't help but attempt to cover your breasts. Feeling shy. But he stops this by gripping your wrists.

"Don't you dare cover yourself. You are fucking gorgeous, sweetheart."

He lets go of your wrists to your breasts into his big hands, before taking them into his mouth one by one, which has you arching into him. He was so massive, yet so gentle with you and you loved it. You reach down to palm him through his pants. You about lose it over feeling how massive and hard he felt in your hands.

To which he smirks, "I haven't even done anything and you're already about to cum for me aren't you?"

"I need you Toji," you beg. "I need you to fuck me."

He chuckles, his low laugh going straight to your core, "all in good time, don't worry I'll fuck you good. So good that you'll forget all about that idiot son of mine.And you'll always think of me. But for now, I want to worship you. Worship the goddess you are."

With that his hands travel down to your panties which were soaked. And not from the rain. You shiver when he runs a finger long the outside.

He groans immediately, then his eyes turn feral when he takes them off. You bite your lip when his finger brushes along your clit, feeling how wet you were. Especially when he was still fully dressed and you were completely exposed to him.

"Fuck you are dripping," he slowly sinks a finger in. You shift at the feeling. His finger was so long, Megumi's had never been this long. "Did I do this to you? Did I make you this wet?"

You nod silently, clenching around his finger as a plead for more.

His finger pulls out and he slaps your pussy, making you cry out at the sting "answer me."

"Yes," you mumble, "you made me this wet."

"And who does this pussy belong to?"

"You. It belongs to you, Mr. Fushiguro."

He slaps your pussy again, "that's not my name. Who does this pussy belong to?"

"YOU!" you cry out. "It belongs to you, Daddy."

He smirks, "that's right. This pussy is mine."

With that he kneels down in between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. He spreads your legs apart. Baring your throbbing pussy to him.

"Now who am I again?"

"Daddy," you answer immediately.

"Good girl."

That's all he needs before diving in, his face buries between your thighs, running his tongue along your clit, before sucking it entirely and your grip his hair tightly as he devours you hungrily, as if you were his own personal feast and he couldn't get enough of you.

"Daddy," you moan frantically, grinding your pussy on his tongue. Swirling and sucking, he was sending you into a desperate frenzy. It was like he knew your body so well. "Feels so good."

He growls in approval, "you taste so fûcking good angel"

Angel has you coming undone in an instant. And you knew this man wasn't anywhere done and it made you desperate for more.

He inserts a finger "so fucking tight," groaning, he starts slowly fûcking you with it before adding another, and then soon adding a third. Stretching you out with his large fingers. Curling and finding your sweet spot, all the while still feasting on you. "Just means I have to stretch you good so you can take me."

"Please. Daddy," you plead, "I need your cock."

"Don't rush me, Angel, let me take my time with you. I don't want to break you."

"What if I want you to break me ? I'm not as fragile as you think."

He bites down on your clit, earning a yelp, "you're getting mouthy. Perhaps I need to punish you instead. I'm much bigger than my son, so."

" I don't want to think about your son, he's not who's cock I want right now. Right now i want- no I NEED your cock to fuck me. And I need you to fuck me as hard as you want so I can forget about him. Because all I want is you and that's all I've ever wanted."

His fingers pause and he stares at me.

"You wanna know a secret ? All my fantasies at night were never about him, they were always about you. But I didn't fantasize about you fûcking me gently; i wanted you to be rough with me. To use me as your toy, your slut-"

With that he pulls his fingers out abruptly, yanking you towards him, kissing you harshly. "Is that what you want? Hmm? You want me to fuck you like a slut?"

"Yes, Daddy."

His blue eyes darken, "fine." He picks you up and sets you on your feet. "Then get on your knees."

You immediately do what he says.

He tugs his shirt off, your mouth waters instantly at how hard he is built. So well defined and chiseled. Fuck. He was the hottest man to ever exist. He takes his pants off next, boxers too. And his big cock springs out.

Fuck if you thought his hands were massive- his cock was monsterous. At least 10 inches and thick. And it was throbbing hard, for you.

"Crawl to me and open your mouth," you immediately do as he says, you settle in front of him, licking your lips before opening wide.

He strokes himself before hitting the tip on your tongue. He slowly pushes in. You immediately choke, he really was massive. And it made you wet. He continued to push it in as far as it could go, you slack your jaw and widen it as much as possible. Fuck it was only halfway in before it hit the back of your throat. His hot precum coating your tongue and you immediately moan at the taste. Then he pulls out before slamming back in. This time not giving you time to adjust as he fucks your mouth brutally. Not showing any mercy and could feel yourself pooling with how rough he was being and how massive he was.

"Is this what you wanted?" he gathers your hair out of your face, before wrapping his hand around your throat. "You want to be fucked like a slut?"

He chokes you slightly causing you gag slightly. His tip constantly hitting the back of your throat in harsh thrusts.

"That's right, you can't even answer because your mouth is too full of my cock. Like the greedy cock slut you are."

You whimper at his mocking tone, he was driving you insane.

His pace never falters, as his cock brutally abuses your mouth. Soon enough he's exploding into to your mouth. He pulls his cock out.

"Such a good cock slut, taking my cock so well," he smirks with pride, and his eyes darken when you swallow it all. "Good girl."

He helps you stand up, before picking you up and dropping you on the counter again. "Do you want to go to my room or do you want me to fuck you here?"

"Please;" you murmur, voice still hoarse from it being brutally fucked, "fuck me here."

He nods before, yanking you so your on the edge, spreading your legs once more. "You tell me if it's too much ? Okay?"

You nod, "please daddy. I need you."

You watch as he closes the distance between your bodies, grabbing his shaft and stroking it with those big hands. He runs it up and down your opening, teasing your clit. He does this. Back and forth, teasing you.

You're practically in tears at this point, desperately wanting him inside you.

"TOJI FUSHIGURO if you don't stop teasing me right now-" he covers your mouth with his hand.

"Good girls get what they want. If you're going to be bratty then I can drag this out all night long."

Up and down, mixing his precum with your arousal. Then finally, he lines up the tip with your entrance, and slowly begins to push the head in. You suck in breath, because just his head is massive itself. His cock was going to split you into pieces.

"Fuck, you are so damn tight," he grips your waist in his other hand as if to steady himself. He continues pushing, slowly stretching your gummy walls. About halfway in he starts rocking his hips slowly. Slowly opening you up to him. Preparing your for what was to come. “You’re doing so good though. Taking me so well.”

“You’re so big,” you mutter.

But it was honestly no surprise. It was just how he was built. You always loved how small you felt in comparison to him.

Finally he seems to be fully in at the hilt, “fuck I can see myself in your stomach.”

With that he pulls out before slamming back in, and your whole world begins spin as he fucks you hard and fast. You can’t help but cry at the stretch and the burn of him so big and tight in your walls. Stretching you out so deliciously. He’s already reached the spot that sends you into overdrive and you nearly cum right there because he just feels too good.

“I can feel you’ll clenching around me, Angel, you feel so divine. So fûcking good”, he growls. His thrusts becoming harsher, deeper. He presses a hand on you stomach to where the bulge is, “I knew this pussy was made for my cock. I knew it from the second my son brought you home, that you’d be mine. I saw right when you looked at me, the way you always pressed your thighs together whenever I said your name. Don’t think I don’t know of the times I’ve caught you looking at me, when you think no one is looking. You were always mine. And you always will be. This pussy,” he emphasizes by rubbing it with his thumb while he continues to fuck you. Never stopping, never faltering, “is mine. This body is mine, those beautiful tits are mine. Your perfect ass is mine too, it’s all mine. You hear me? Y/N? You’re fûcking mine”.

You nod sobbing out of pleasure and overwhelmed by his words at the same time.

“Say it. Tell me who your pussy belongs too.”

“You,” you babble, “my pussy is yours, I’m yours Daddy. Always yours.”

You can feel your stomach tightening as you begin to come undone.

“I can feel you clenching around me, are you ready to come for me?”

You nod your head, “yes daddy, I’m going to cum. Don’t stop.”

“Alright go ahead and cum for Daddy,” he commands. He leans forward and gives you sloppy kiss.

And you do. You fall apart around him in pure bliss. When you finish. He picks you up, not pulling out, and carries you to the wall.

Trapping you against the wall, uses it as leverage to start pounding into you again. You fling your arms around him gripping into his back for purchase as he rams into you. More animalistic before.

“I love how small your body feels against mine. How soft it feels,” he praises, using his hands to grip your waist to bounce you up and down his shaft. “Such perfect body for me to destroy.”

“Please don’t stop,” you beg, your nails digging into his back. You never wanted this to end. Whatever dream this was. You never wanted his body to separate from yours.

“I bet Megumi never fucked you this good did he? He could never give you what I can, what you need, can he?”

You shake your head, “no. No one fills me up like you.”

Several more thrusts and you’re coming to another high.

“Are you on the pill? I really want to come in you.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t have time when I ran from my apartment.”

“Shît, well then I’ll pull out.”

But you grip his wrist, “no don’t, I want you to cum in me. “

He stills for a moment, gripping your chin, forcing you to look him into those blue eyes, that were on the verge of insanity, “you realize what you’re saying right?”

“Yes. I want you to fill me up, Daddy.”

“Fucking hell,” he growls before he once again picks you up, and carries your body to the couch. He slams into you even more desperadoes than before, hooking your legs over his shoulders to hit your spot from a new angle. “You want me to breed you Is that it? Want me to fill you up so full with my cum you’ll have no choice but to have seed. I’ll fill this belly up and put a baby in there. Is that what you want?”

“Please Daddy, fill me up. Fill me up with your cum! Breed me!”

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” his thrusts start to become sloppier more desperate. His grunts become more frantic too. “Cum with me Angel.”

He gives you another kiss, intertwining your tongues together. Rubbing you clit, and soon you’re coming undone once more. His release following yours soon after.

“Look at that look at my cum filling you up so full,” You look down to where your bodies are connected and moan. “Good girl. You did so well for me.”

You smirk, you weren’t done with him yet. You hook your legs around him and flip him around. Straddling him and taking guiding him through your folds again.

He chuckles through a low groan, “you’re not done yet?” He helps guide you up and down his shaft. His cock reaching you in new places as you bounce up and down. You loved the feeling of his big cock completely stretching you. You loved the sound of his skin slapping against yours and you especially loved how blissed out he looked. The sounds he made, knowing it was you that made him this way, it was you who made him feel this pleasure.

“Not even close, daddy. You’re mine too. And it’s my turn to show you.”

As you’re riding him, you hear a soft click sound. Footsteps sound.

Toji stills you, you both look to see Megumi walk in. Horror on his face.

“What fuck?”

“Don’t stop, Daddy!” You smirk, and his hips snap up to yours, fûcking into you once more. “Let’s him what’s he’s missing.”

“Of course, Angel, anything for you,” he leans yanks your head forward, to whisper into your ear. “And then we can kill him.“

You just giggle, making sure to look at Megumi.

“Of course, Daddy. Anything for you.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 46

Part 1 Part 45

Hopper’s idling by the trailer when Steve and Eddie exit on the way to school the next morning. Eddie’s forehead immediately breaks out in anxiety-sweats. He stumbles back a step on instinct, arm up to waylay Steve. Nothing good ever came from the Chief of Police loitering in front of a drug dealer’s trailer. 

Hopper cranks his window down, leaning out enough to stick his head partially out, and shouts over at them, “you cleared to go to school already, Harrington?” 

Eddie drops his arm – threat categorized, acknowledged, and discarded. Steve steps over the threshold and down the front steps, each foot placed carefully, lest he stumble in front of Hopper. 

“It’s fine,” Steve says, like he always does.

“Your doctor say that?”

Steve shifts his eyes toward Eddie, like he’s begging for help. Eddie clears his throat, pointedly not curling his shoulders in when Hopper shifts his glare over to him. “He went yesterday,” he calls over, like a chump. Because what his majesty wants, Eddie will provide.

Hopper raises his eyebrows, letting them stew in the silence as he keeps his eyes trained on Eddie. Weakest link sighted. And just like every time he finds himself in this standoff with the bane of his existence, he folds. “He’s not supposed to go back until Monday!”

“Munson!” Steve grouses. Eddie’s guts churn at being last-named again.

“But” Eddie starts, waving his hand in Steve’s face like that’ll buy him a few more seconds of grace. “You gotta let him go, Hopper.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he grouses, still glaring into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie fidgets, hoping Steve won’t be too pissed off. “Harrington here’s a flight risk,” he says, patting his head lightly, like a dog who’s just performed a marvelous trick. “You don’t give him something to do? We might never see him again.”

Steve scoffs, but notably doesn’t pull away from Eddie’s hand or refute his point. 

Hopper continues glaring at both of them before sighing out like a beleaguered dog and rolls up his window. He doesn’t drive away. “Is that–” Steve starts, squinting at Hopper through his now-closed window. “Is that permission?”

“We don’t beg for permission, Stevie.” Eddie trails his hand through Steve’s peach-fuzz hair before skipping over to where his van’s parked, knowing without looking that Steve’s following him. He slides into the driver’s seat, waits for Steve to slide in as well before turning the key in the ignition. “We don’t even ask for forgiveness.”

He smiles over at Steve, cheeks hurting from the force of it. He feels like he’s just taken three shots of espresso, back to back to back. Steve smiles over at him, small but real, eyes shining in the morning sun. His hair glows golden in the sunlight, and his skin, still slightly sallow, is flushed pink in the cheeks. 

“We don’t?” Steve asks quietly. He sounds excited. Like a kid told he’d get to open his birthday presents early. 

Eddie’s endeared, any reluctance drained out of him around the second time Steve Harrington had saved his life. “Naw.” He reaches over, patting Steve’s knee, not letting his fingers linger like they want to. He cranks the engine, Black Sabbath booming from the speakers until Steve turns it down a few notches. “That’s for squares. And you, Steve Harrington, are a certified badass.”

Steve’s smiling out the window when Eddie glances over, watching trailers pass by. Electric Funeral turns over to War Pigs. Eddie sings along quietly as Steve bops his head along to a beat he doesn’t even know.

Hopper follows them all the way to school, his truck idling at the curb until Eddie pulls into a spot and takes out the key. Neither of them mention anything.

School passes in a mindless haze. Eddie listens to lectures on calculus and geography and the themes in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, lets it all fly over his head. Not even in one ear and out the other – that implies it went into his brain at all.

Jeff gives him dirty looks throughout calc, like he can tell Eddie’s checked out past the point of return and is feeling a sense of paternal disappointment over his lack of work ethic. 

Eddie’d checked out long before Demogorgon’s and Demon Worlds made an appearance in his life. Now, class feels like biding time until he can get Steve back in his sights. Graduating feels like another step away from Harrington that he doesn’t want to take.

So he sits and stews and ignores Jeff’s disappointed eyes, and regrets that Steve’s a year below him and not smart enough to pass calc either.

Seeing him walk into lunch is a religious experience. Eddie sighs into his suspicious casserole, staring at Steve with reverence. He’s talking to Barb quietly, standing beside her in the lunch line. 

Steve laughs at something she says, and Eddie swears he can almost hear it across the cacophony of the lunchroom rush. 

“Dude,” Gareth says from beside him.

Eddie jumps, whipping his head over to where Gareth had snuck up on him. “When did you get here?” he hisses, narrowing his eyes.

Gareth stares back, deadpan. Eddie misses when his little sheep were at least a little bit afraid of him. Honestly, the gall. “I was here before you sat down.”

Ah, well. Eddie hunches, looking around the table that’s seemingly filled in around him. “So?”

Gareth leans closer, keeping his voice lowered. “Are you, like in love with Harrington?” Gareth asks, voice quiet enough for discretion even as it lentils up harshly at the end. 

“No, shut up!” Eddie hisses back, but something restless and wanting unfurls as the fishhook in his ribs slackens with Steve’s approach. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

“—could help you,” Barb is saying, inexplicably sitting at the wrong freaks and geeks table again. Clearly, there’s still trouble in paradise. “I’m free Thursday’s after school.”

Steve slides in next to Eddie, matching suspect casserole to Eddie’s own. He doesn’t look away from his conversation from Barb, but he slides his knee into Eddie’s, easy like breathing. Even easier, with Steve’s track record of not doing that.

“Really?” Steve asks, leaning toward her over the table. 

Barb shrugs, nonchalantly, pulling that same bagged sandwich from her bag to munch on. “Sure, why not?”

She says it like it’s nothing, but Steve exhales like the world just stopped ending. “Thanks,” he sighs. “I’m just so behind, and my Dad–” he cuts off, shoves a forkful of slop in his mouth like that’s the reason for the pause. “I just don’t want to be held back.”

Jeff, the traitor, looks over to Barbara and unhelpfully contributes, “are you guys planning a study group?” he asks, continuing before she has a chance, “because this one could use a little of that.”

Eddie doesn’t let anyone else get in a word. “I can’t Jeffery,” Eddie sneers. “Thursday is Hellfire.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows like he’s thinking deeply, starts, “we could maybe do it on Wed—”

“That’s fine!” Eddie says. “I’m doing fine!”

He glares around at the table, daring anyone to say anything. Jeff scoffs, and Steve still looks worried, but no one says anything. Study group is born, and Eddie’s plans are finalized: his graduating class will be moving on without him.

He only hopes Wayne understands. 

Part 47

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